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sugar-coat-it · 2 months

Text

Body piercer! Matty

Part 2

May I present my pride and joy (and first AU), body piercer Matty <3, based on the 2020 NOACF mohawk era

Fem! reader

****CW! Needles, pain****

Contains: Matty piercing reader’s nipples*, lustful fantasies, praise, Matty has a tongue piercing, HELLA tension and pining, Matty being a sweetheart through the whole thing

*note, I don’t have nipple piercings lol, apologies if any of this is inaccurate.

Word count: 5313

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PART ONE- Fate lands you in Matty Healy’s capable hands when looking to get your nipples pierced. Tension ensues.

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The thought of getting your nipples pierced had been in the back of your mind for what felt like years. It nagged at you every time you saw a pretty girl with barbells poking out under her tank top, you wanted to be her. You’d done all the research, article after article on the healing period, the pain level, and the kinds of jewelry you can get. You also knew fairly well how they enhance sexual encounters, which had a whole draw of its own. You’d done everything except actually make the appointment. That is, up until a few days ago. Fresh off of a breakup and tired of feeling sorry for yourself, you’d called your local tattoo parlor and scheduled a slot with a body piercer named Maddie, then hung up feeling rather pleased with yourself for finally getting it done. The anticipation of the leadup to the appointment had you biting your lips raw. You’d gotten other piercings before, but never in a place so intimate. Never one that required taking your top off, that’s for certain. But friends had been encouraging you nonstop, telling you what a “hot girl” move it was, and who were you to argue?

Finally, the day comes, and you’re swinging open the parlor door a little too hard, evidently very tense. The bell that jangles when the door opens clanks against the wall, making the man behind the counter startle. Wide-eyed and wincing, you shoot him an apologetic look, embarrassed that you’d practically ripped their front door off the hinge. Great start!

Slowly, after making sure the door is safely shut, you approach the counter, absentmindedly toying with the rings that adorn your fingers, twisting them between your thumb and your forefinger. The man at the counter is exactly who you’d expect to be working at a tattoo and piercing parlor, but an even more stunning rendition if you were being honest. His slightly sleepy-looking eyes brighten a little at the sight of you, a fluffy mohawk of chocolatey waves sitting atop his head. He’s adorned with inked patterns along his skin, a patchwork of symbols across his arms that you restrict yourself to only glancing at for a moment. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he greets you with a warm smile, offering a little wave before you start to explain why you’re here, your voice uncharacteristically high-pitched.

“Hi, I’ve got a 1:00 appointment?” you explain before providing your name, trying your hardest to stop fidgeting.

Your mind is in about 20 places, and it doesn’t help that your heart just fluttered at the eye contact he’s holding with you. The man nods at you, a low hum rumbling in his chest as he picks up the scheduling book, sifting through the pages with black polished nails. When he turns his head, you catch a glimpse of the single silver hoop earring that he’s sporting quite well. Curiosity creeps up like a slinking cat, making you wonder what other modifications he might have. His narrowed eyes scan the book, toffee-colored irises flicking over names until he finds yours penciled in, jabbing his nail against the page.

“Yeah I see you, you’re with me then. And, you did your paperwork and payment stuff, it looks like,” he says, snapping the schedule closed definitively.

“Oh, no I don’t think…” you start to correct, tilting your head at him with confusion until you trail off into quiet.

That’s when it catches your eye, the nametag on his white tank top reads “Matty”. Then it clicks. Matty. Not Maddie. You’d scheduled your appointment to get your tits pierced with a guy. A very attractive guy that was now going to watch you squirm like a child. Your jaw drops slightly, a sinking feeling in your gut starting to fester as you realize your mistake.

“Everything alright there? Second thoughts, perhaps?” Matty prompts, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at you.

“No… no second thoughts. To be honest, I thought I had an appointment with a female piercer,” you answer, preemptively grimacing before you’d even finished your sentence.

“Oh, shit. Well, that’s not ideal. Listen, we can get you in here another day then, no problem. Tell me what works for you,” he says, already scrambling for a pencil to put your name elsewhere in the book.

“Actually, I think it’s fine. I’m already here, right?” you offer, shrugging to try and appear more nonchalant about the whole thing (your palms are sweating).

“Are you sure? Seriously, I don’t want you uncomfortable on my watch. It’s not a big deal to get you a different appointment,” he frowns, absentmindedly twirling the pencil between his fingers.

His eyes are strangely soft for someone with such an intimidating job, you can only describe the feeling they give you as melting. You can’t quite place why, but his presence alone is somehow quelling your nerves, even if it’s just a bit. Your hands start to still, dropping to rest at your sides as you decide to let him do it anyway. He looks trustworthy, right?

“Yeah, I’m sure. But thank you, truly,” you say, a soft smile pulling at your lips at how keen he seems on making you comfortable.

Matty nods slowly, rising from the chair while eyeing you like he’s not sure if you’re going to turn on your heel and run out the door if he looks away. He asks you to follow him to the back, you’re trailing close behind as he pulls his baggy camo pants further up his hips by his belt. The room he leads you to is small and fairly chilly, but only in temperature. The space itself feels homey, plastered with stickers and posters of various punk bands, it doesn’t feel like some sterile hospital room.

“Stay standin’ for me, just need to get some things,” he instructs, turning to reach for his supplies, including the jewelry you’d selected over the phone, “and, whenever you’re ready you can take your top off, okay?”

Without the pressure of his eyes on you, it takes a moment before you slowly ease your shirt up and over your shoulders, setting it beside you. You take a slightly uneven breath as you reach to fumble with the clasp of your bra, suddenly forgetting the muscle memory from doing it for so many years. The moment it’s off, the rush of cold air instantly sends a shiver licking up your spine. You lean back against the counter, trying to appear as casual as you can as you eye the piercer. Your eyebrows slope with admiration, softening your expression as you realize that he’s now aimlessly fishing through a drawer, trying to give you time to ease into undressing while he’s still turned around. He stays with his back to you until you clear your throat, signaling that you’ve finished. His expression is unphased as he turns around on the heels of his platformed lace-up boots. God, he really is beyond cool, isn’t he?

“Right, I’m gonna put these on, and then I’ll mark the placement,” Matty explains, holding up a pair of latex gloves.

Matty pulls the gloves over his sizeable hands, the bulging veins catching your eye as he flexes his fingers to test that they’re taught. He’s taking a few steps closer to you, now only about an arm's length away as he explains that he’s not going to touch you without the gloves, though of course, your first unfiltered thought is that you wish he would. His eyes hadn’t strayed from your face for even a second this whole time, being remarkably neutral despite the fact that you were topless. Though, you suppose that sort of thing must not phase him since he’s probably pierced tons of nipples. That doesn’t stop the odd tinge of disappointment that he hadn’t even glanced at your body. You swallow the feeling like it’s bile, knowing that it’s totally unreasonable to want him to gaze at you with anything but professionalism.

“Is it okay if I put my hands on you? Need to clean the area,” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, it’s making you slightly weak in the knees, he’s just so fucking gentle.

You nod, rolling your shoulders back in preparation for him to touch you while he pours solvent on a cotton pad. His disciplined, gloved hands reach out, and only now does he allow his gaze to dip down to your chest. You could swear his breath hitches just a little, the quiet room allowing for the smallest sounds to be heard. Maybe he is just a man after all. The thought makes pride simmer in your chest, but you’re not dwelling on it for long, your mind going blank the moment he starts to swiftly swipe the pad along your nipples, sanitizing your skin and also effectively making them harden from the stimulation. You tense up, standing straighter than before as you bite back any semblance of a reaction. Matty throws you a glance to assess your discomfort, soft brown irises following the slopes of your features. He places the sanitizing supplies to the side, now uncapping a purple skin marker. This was going to be a long process if he kept looking at you that way.

“Nothing's happening yet, okay? Just gonna draw on where they’re gonna go,” he says, holding it up while raising his eyebrows as if to say “Look, it’s harmless”.

Matty leans in again, his eyes narrowing with concentration, gloved knuckles brushing the side of your breast as he marks a dot on the side of your nipple. Watching Matty stare at your tits with such laser focus has your cheeks flushing just slightly, heat prickling at the bridge of your nose. He runs the tip of the marker from one side of the hardened bud to the other, marking a symmetrical dot. Tingles spread under your skin like wildfire, he’s barely touched you and yet you can feel yourself buzzing at the slightest sensations. His pretty brown eyes meet yours and he just smiles at you sympathetically, knowing how hyperfocused on his every movement you must be.

“You’re not breathing,” he whispers, playfully jabbing the capped end of the pen against your arm.

Your eyes widen as you realize that he’s absolutely right, you’d been holding your breath this whole time. You release your bated breath, your chest heaving slightly as Matty keeps looking down at you, giving you a moment to regain your senses. You swear the eye contact while being inches away from him is making you more lightheaded than the lack of oxygen. With a satisfied nod, he resumes, repeating the same process of drawing the dots at the peak of your other breast. Then, he takes a step back, biting the cap of the marker between his canines while he evaluates his work. This allows you another moment to admire him as he eyeballs the symmetricalness of his markings. Your mind is wandering, perhaps trying to distract you from how intently this man is studying your breasts. You’re wondering what it would be like if he wasn’t so gentle with you. What if he touched you instead with greed, the need to satiate himself? In your head, you imagine the warm, honey tones of his eyes darkening like tinted glass as he drinks you in not as his client, but as something to desire, to want to feel flush beneath his calloused fingertips. This version of Matty doesn’t try to limit every graze of his working hands, he’s starving; groping, and mapping every part of your skin that he can reach. You’re jumping the gun now, the image flashes through your mind like a ricocheting bullet: Matty’s got you pressed up against the wall, his hands are mean as he grabs a handful of one of your tits, his thigh is hitched between your legs, keeping your thighs parted. His head dips down, his shaggy mohawk tickling at your neck as he tugs on the silver barbell through your nipple with his teeth, pain melding with pleasure till they’re impossible to separate. And, oh, fuck, does he have a tongue piercing? Your eyes flick down to his mouth now, mind reeling as you spot the silver stud on his tongue revealed by the way he’s chewing on the cap of the marker. You are losing yourself, and fast, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Alright, looks just about even. Would you go ahead and lie down there, darlin’?” he asks, cocking his head towards the reclined padded chair next to him.

Now is where the nerves are starting to kick in, it’s all fun and fantasizing about your body piercer until you actually have to sit in the chair. You were hardly able to mentally fawn over the pet name as you took unsure strides to situate yourself in the cold, plastic parlor recliner. Matty busies himself with preparing various metal objects while you stare up at the ceiling, squinting at the fluorescent lights and wondering why you wanted your tits pierced so badly in the first place. Then, his unreasonably darling face is in your field of vision, peering down at you with a consoling smile.

“Comfy?” he prompts, a needle in one hand and a small pair of forceps in the other.

It’s not a comforting sight, no matter how lovely the man holding them is.

“Sorta. I’m actually kind of a chicken about these things,” you admit with a wobbly smile in return.

“No… really?” he grins boyishly, clearly being sarcastic with you.

You shoot him a look for that, but it melts away into a little laugh, you can’t seem to even fake a cold stare around him, it’s sort of pitiful. Standing over you, Matty raises the forceps close to your breasts but doesn’t touch you with them just yet. You bite your lip, lifting your head to get a better look at what’s happening, even though you’re not entirely sure you even want to watch.

“Now, this is just going to feel like a little pinch, shouldn’t hurt,” he says, his voice lowering a little before he slips in a: “You’re doing really good.”

The praise tears your gaze away from his hands and onto his face, blinking in disbelief at the way he’d caused a fizzling pang of desire inside you so effortlessly. That feeling doesn’t get any weaker the moment you feel the cool metal clamp around your nipple, your lips parting with a soft gasp, hands tensing with the urge to hold onto something, to hold onto him. Matty’s pierced tongue darts out past his lips in concentration, soothing over his bottom lip as he lines the needle up next to the hardened bud. You jolt at the sharp tip of the object against your sensitive skin, your hand shooting out to grab onto Matty’s bicep in a moment of pure reaction. Both of you seem equally shocked that you’d suddenly clutched his arm, your nails slightly biting into his skin amongst the spattering of pretty freckles that mark him. There’s a moment of the loudest silence you’ve ever heard, his stare feels like it’s searing you. You’re about to rush into apologizing, but then he’s placing his tools back down onto his tray of supplies, tentatively reaching to rest his larger hand over yours, enveloping it in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I’m just lining up my shot. I’m gonna tell you when it’s time, okay? Just breathe with me for a moment,” he reassures, his thumb rubbing tenderly over the back of your hand.

He takes an exaggerated breath, encouraging you to do the same, his chest rising beneath his white tank top. You mirror Matty, taking a deep breath in of, well… him. He smells like a dizzying combination of Marlboros and woody aftershave because of course, he does.

“That’s it, much better. It’ll be a whole fuckin’ ordeal if you pass out on me, so stay with me here. Can you do that?” he questions, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah… yeah, I can. Thank you,” you say softly, trying to disregard the sparks radiating under Matty’s palm.

You stay like this for a few breaths longer, Matty doesn’t look away from you and you’re not so sure that it’s only because he doesn’t want you to conk out. His gloved hand gives yours an encouraging squeeze before letting go slowly. The heat still lingers as he retrieves his tools a second time, the flexing of his bicep under your grasp reminds you that you should probably let go of him now. But, the moment you start to retract your hand, he glances at you and speaks in that silky tone of his.

“You don’t have to let go, s’okay. You can use me like a stress toy, or something. I don’t really care,” he shrugs, winking at you.

You just nod dumbly, your eyes going a little wider as you settle your hand over his bare arm again, right over the top of his Newcastle United seahorse tattoo. You’d like to use him in other ways too, but that’s not very appropriate, now is it?

You let out a sigh as you come to the same point in the process again, Matty lining up the needle diligently while keeping your nipple clamped with the metal forceps, but this time, you get to cling to his arm. You don’t want to distract him, because it would be your loss in the end, but there is a sense of satisfaction when you feel his bicep flex slightly as you trace your thumb along the symbol inked on his skin, following the curve of the seahorses mane with your nail.

“Okay, love. Here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m going to do it on three, and when I say three, I need you to take a sharp breath in for me, like this,” he instructs, making a lot of gestures with his hands while he talks, then shows you what he means with a harsh inhale through his nose.

You breathe out a weak “okay”, already gripping his arm harder from the anticipation building up to a high. You decide it’s best not to watch, especially since you’d promised you wouldn’t pass out. You let your head rest back against the chair, your nose scrunching as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Matty begins to count down, increasing the pressure of the clamp. 1. 2. 3. You inhale sharply through your nose at the same time that an unprecedented amount of burning pain reverberates through your chest, your eyes snapping open. You’re clawing at his arm, a cry ripping past your lips while tears well up and blur your vision. It’s a feeling so intense that it’s seeping through you to your stomach, crawling like the meanest sunburn. Of all the piercings you’ve gotten, you can say without a doubt that this takes first prize for the most painful.

“Oh, fuck!” you sob, the sound being embarrassingly close to a full-bodied moan.

Matty slides the jewelry through while swiftly retracting the needle, trying to stifle the way the sound you’d made was affecting him, echoing in his skull in a way he knows it shouldn’t. He doesn’t even flinch despite the way your nails are leaving angry, red crescents marred on his skin. He quickly screws the barbell together before completely retracting his hands from you, taking one more glance at his handiwork before consoling you, his heart seemingly aching for the pretty girl in his chair.

“I know, I know. Hurts like a bitch, but you’re halfway done. Doing so good, you’re alright,” he murmurs, reaching the gloved back of his hand to your face to wipe some of the stray tears on your cheeks.

You just whine, the radiating pain only now starting to subside as you keep your hold on his arm, now smoothing over the marks you’d left with your fingertips as if you’re kissing them better. His thumb grazes along your cheek for a little too long for it to be accidental. Matty’s praise while he wipes away your tears is making your mind fuzzy, it’s like he’s numbing the pain; the sweetest morphine.

Your gasps for breath are slowing, the pain like a dull pulse, easing its grip on you. But now, mortification is starting to sink in now that you’re not reeling from shooting pain. One of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen just watched you in one of your most vulnerable moments, and there’s still one piercing to go, much to your dismay.

“Fuck, this is embarrassing,” you admit with a breathy laugh at your own expense.

“Nah, don’t be embarrassed. You could’ve done much worse, probably,” he says, looking amused as he shakes his head at you.

“Like what?” “I dunno… like, socked me in the face as a fight or flight response.”

You laugh at that, a bright sound filling the room that makes Matty’s smile grow fonder as he gazes down at you with those pretty, sparkly eyes. The moment lingers on for a few beats, tension blooming between you that almost makes you forget about the throbbing ache of your left breast (almost).

“You do know I have to do the other one right? Unless you’re a bit odd and like the one-piercing look,” he reminds cautiously over the clinking metallic sound of him picking up his tools.

“I know,” you sigh, “can you do it fast?”

“Erm… I’ll do it as quickly as I can without making it cockeyed, but I reckon you’ll be fine. Besides, the second one’s always easier from what I’ve seen.”

He doesn’t seem like the type that would elude you for the sake of false security, so you take his word as gospel, settling in to prepare yourself for what’s hopefully a more tolerable experience. His next words have your heart thrumming against your ribs.

“Can you handle it?” he asks, more of a challenge than a question.

You nod at him quietly, absentmindedly drawing little feather-light swirls on his bicep. The incentive of his praise is becoming all too tempting. You want to handle it, you want to show him that you can do it. There’s a new, honeyed kind of heat seeping into your bones.

“Good girl. You’re a strong one, love,” he praises, sensing just how eager you are.

The next pulse you feel doesn’t come from your chest. Good girl? He has to be fucking with you. Jesus, does he talk to all of his customers like this? Does he wipe all of their tears too? Something in you wants to believe he doesn’t. He watches as your lips part slowly, your lashes fluttering as you look up at him. You have to know.

“Do you call all your customers that?” you whisper, blinking up at him coyly.

“Not really, no. Only the pretty ones who deserve it.”

Your breath comes out as a shudder, it’s unfair how easily he leaves you stunned. He clicks his tongue casually before getting back to work, all too pleased by the look on your face. You know the routine by now, Matty makes quick work of clamping your nipple and arranging the prodding tip of the needle just so. You’re still clinging to his arm, or your personal stress toy, something you’ve grown very familiar to the feel of throughout your time here. The countdown starts, he’s not giving you as much time to prepare. 1. 2. 3. What was more like a shriek from earlier comes out as a whine this time, a high-pitched, whimpery noise spilling from you. You don’t curse or practically maul his arm this time, but it’s still painful, you can’t say you’re fond of how vividly you can feel the needle go in and out amidst the burning sting.

“Beautiful, atta girl,” he whispers, screwing the end of the barbell on before leaning back to admire his work, his eyes unabashedly glued to how the jewelry sits prettily on your breasts.

You have no clue if he’s talking about you, your tits, or the job he’d done, but it makes your skin warm all the same.

Finally, you allow yourself to look at your chest, gently sliding your hand off of his bicep to prop yourself up on your arms and get a good look at the two new adornments. Shit, they look good on you, better than you’d hoped, and perfectly symmetrical thanks to him. He smirks when he notices the way you’re gawking at the piercings, knowing that the pain is barely a thought in your mind now, too distracted by how newly desirable you must feel. Matty likes knowing that one, he’s good at his job, and two, that he’s just helped you feel sexier. He’s really enjoying watching you admire yourself and in turn, his work. There’s a slight stir beneath his baggy pants, which he knows should never happen while he’s with a client, but you might just be the sweetest thing that’s ever been in his chair. He’s allowing himself a pass.

“Shit, Matty, they’re really nice,” you gape, your stomach swooping when you glance up to see the smug look playing on his lips.

“Yeah, they came out mint. Suit you nicely, don’t they?” he says, daring to dance along the line of being unprofessional as he then glances down at your tits and whistles.

What a boy.

“Thank you… for everything I mean,”

“Don’t mention it, you were great,” Matty smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he waves off your gushing.

Butterflies are rampaging in your stomach, god, why does he have to be so lovely? He looks like he has something he wants to say, but it goes unspoken, rattling around in his head instead. His expression is hard to read, but would you be deluding yourself to say there’s a tinge of longing? A few beats of quiet tick by, and you’re now becoming acutely aware of the fact that you no longer have a reason to be topless, awkwardly crossing your arms. Always so attentive, Matty suddenly straightens up and reaches over your body, his chain dangling in front of your face as he grabs your shirt and bra from the counter. He places them on your lap and politely turns away as if he’s never seen you undressed, clearing his throat like that will clear the thick tension in the air.

You wince as soon as the cups of your bra meet your immensely tender breasts, sucking in a sharp breath through your teeth as you power through clasping it. The sensitivity is something you’d been warned about, and now you get to joyfully experience it firsthand for the next however many weeks. Your eyes are on Matty’s back as you slip your shirt over your head, taking note of how rigid he seems as he gathers the after-piercing care papers for you. But maybe it’s in your head. You haven’t known him very long at all, it’s a dangerous game to assume any of the tension of this afternoon was real when you were freaking out for more than half of it.

“Right, any questions for me?” he asks, striding over to hand you the pages.

Are you single?Can we go out?Should we make out right now?How are you real?

“No, I think I’m alright.”

“Okay, well, if you’re not woozy, you can go ahead and stand up when you’re ready,” he says, clasping his hands together as if he’s wrapping up his job well done.

With the care pamphlet in one hand, you start to slowly swing your legs over to the side, noticing the way Matty stands at attention like he’s ready to catch you if your legs give out. But they don’t, you’re able to stand with minimal wobbles, shaking out your hands to try and relax your poor, recovering body.

The walk back to the front of the parlor is quiet, the both of you trying to grapple with the tension you couldn’t quite leave behind in the chair. There’s not much else to say, is there? You’re both standing next to the door now, and Matty retracts one of his hands from within his pockets to hold it out to you. Nothing says “I just blurred the lines of professionality while piercing your tits and now this is goodbye” like a good old handshake, does it? You try to keep your expression neutral even though this all feels quite bittersweet, grasping his hand with a firm shake. It’s the first time you’ve felt his hand without the latex glove between you, they’re soft, but you can tell he works with his hands, the callouses on his fingertips grazing your skin.

“Lovely to meet you, sorry I wasn’t a chick,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, you too. And don’t worry about that, I’m glad it was you,” you reply, perhaps being a little too sincere, but it feels right to say.

“... well, listen, get home safe, alright? Take care of yourself, call if you have any problems,” he says, once again seeming like he’s biting his tongue, keeping himself from saying something to you.

You reach for the handle of the door, but you don’t open it. You look back at him like you’re giving him one more chance to tell you what you’re hoping to hear, but he doesn’t, he just offers a nod with an unreadable expression on his face. Heartache.

“See you, Matty,” you nod in return, opening the door and shutting it behind you.

You evaluate your situation on the walk back to your car. You’ve rid yourself of the urge to get your tits pierced, and they look fantastic, but your new problem is that you have a massive crush on your body piercer that you’re likely never going to see again unless you get another piercing. It’d be a rather expensive hobby to get a piercing just to see his face, so scratch that. Your only option is to be reminded of him every time you take your shirt off, how miserable is that?

Little do you know, the moment the shop door closed behind you, Matty groaned with his face in his hands, mentally kicking himself for not asking you out, or at least getting your number. Sure, you were a client, he had to be careful, but shit, you weren’t just any client, now were you? What was wrong with him? Something about you left the body piercer stiff and tongue-tied, replaying every moment of your encounter back in his mind. Never in his life had Matty Healy felt anything for a customer.

—---One month later—----

After a hellish month of healing, scabbing, and getting your piercings caught on things, you’ve decided that there’s no real point in having nipple piercings if no one gets to see them but you. You’d like to tell yourself that you don’t think about Matty as much anymore, but that would be laughably dishonest. Dating apps are just about one of the most aggravating wastes of time ever, and you’ve had no luck meeting people naturally, so here comes the next best thing: blind dates. Your close friend fancies herself to be somewhat of a matchmaker, she’s been talking up this guy to you for days now, telling you how funny and totally your type he is, and nothing could possibly go wrong if she set you up. You have your doubts, but still, you find yourself in a cafe waiting for your mystery man to sweep you off your feet with his supposed punchy one-liners. What you don’t expect, however, is to watch a very familiar mohawked man stride into the place, the eyes that have patronized your dreams every night scanning across the cafe until they lock onto you.

—----------------------------------------------

Don’t you worry, I won’t leave you hanging with just tension, ofc there’s going to be a smutty part two <3

Thank you very much for reading, I hope it wasn’t underwhelming! And thank you to any other writers that I reached out to to consult about my ideas, ily, mwah!

#oh god I’m nervous about this one #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #the 1975 smut #the 1975 x reader #matty healy fic #body piercer!Matty

284 notes · View notes

twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 10 months

Note

Request-ish for great 7 au if you dont mind, but what kinds of pictures do you think the g7 keep of yuu? Whether in like a photo book or their wallet or whatever? (Also if you dont mind maybe what their favorite photo of yuu is as well?) Love your writing have a good day!

A Picture of Yuu

Trying to ease myself back into writing and decided to try this out as a semi request! Gn yuu per usual, minot spoilers for ch 2— This is based of my Great 7 fic Unit:Yuu!

Notes: I do not know what kind of Arab Jafar is Aba/Baba for him, please let me know if this incorrect—

Queen of Hearts + Jabberwock

The Queen of Hearts has always been a zany one to say what photo she has of you that she adores on any given day would be difficult. In short, she loves them all!

It is such a shame that instant photography wasn't a thing back in her era, she would have taken so many photos of herself and Wonderland and she would have loved to show you all of them, it would certainly save the Jabberwock from having to explain so much.

The Queen watches you from afar as she drifts into her own thoughts. How she would have loved to take you into Wonderland with her and have your portraits done together.

Perhaps you could take your camera with you and you both can record all the memories you make together? How fitting would it have been to have photos of you in your wackiest poses and outfits up on the walls without having to get each one painstakingly painted?

She watches you rest the Jabberwocks head on her lap, and a smile graces her face at the sight of her little Rose with her greatest warrior. Should she still have her kingdom, she would have barked orders for the royal painter immediately.

Perhaps she doesn't have a favorite photo or picture of you because it hasn't made it yet, and as you take a photo of you and her with the Jabberwock all together (a photo you will undoubtedly hide from Crowley), she realizes she would never be able to find a favorite, as all she wants to now is to keep taking more.

Scar + The Hyenas

Scar has seen Rafiki's artwork before, and he was never impressed by the crude cave paintings he made, especially the ones that represented him.

If Rafiki were to have made one of you, however... he wouldn't know how to feel.

Even then, he much prefers these cameras and their strange instant paintings, after all he has never looked better in them! They really catch his good side!

Scar would huff in faux uninterest when he sees you pointing the camera around and taking photos of those three idiot hyenas around Ramshackle. And when you take photos of him he certainly doesn't strike a pose on purpose! (He snarls at Ed who even thinks about mentioning the idea.)

Still even as you show all of the photos you took, even of the ones of you, the hyenas, and him, it can never compare to the old "photo" of you and him together that he keeps hidden.

Cub is what he called you. To him, you were one. He was teaching you how to hunt with those Hyenas, how to sneak up on your prey and attack, and your victorious smile as you helped them take down a gazelle.

He remembered his muddy paws dragging across stony ground as Banzai carried the gazelle carcass with him, the group of hunters having to take it to the fire so you can eat.

Scar noticed how you suddenly stopped in your tracks and stared down at the ground. Annoyed, Scar huffed telling you to hurry up, and when you went on your knees and poked at the ground below you he snarled and circled back to you

That was when he noticed you were staring at his paw print in part of the ground. Your child self seemed to glow when you saw it, and you took your own muddy and bloodied hand and put it right over his print as if comparing sizes. When you took it away, he saw your small handprint right on his.

He may have actually have had a soft moment with you then and there if it wasn't for the hyena's prodding. Upon seeing the hand and paw print, Ed immediately remarked on how he wanted to do that too, and put his own next to yours, then Shenzi and Banzai, ever competitive, started arguing about doing the same, shoving each other out of the way to put their paw down as well.

In the end, all of your prints were together in a way that oddly resembled Rafiki's dribble. "Are you all satisfied now?" He huffed, snarling, "Now go! All of you!" He barked making the hyenas walk off and you follow. As you all walked off he tore up that part of the stone from the ground and carried it in his mouth, following the cackle closely behind with it.

He despised the way some child managed to worm his way into his heart and yet here is years later with you all grown up, and he still has the stone tablet hidden away for his eyes only. He refuses to let you see how soft he has gotten for you.

Shenzi definitely knows of it and tells you about his secret, prompting Scar to try and kill her.

Ursula + The Eels

Oh dear, now that's a question all right.

If it was up to her and she was able to have had you down in Atlantica, she would have hung so many paintings of you and her poopsies on her grotto walls, your chubby baby self was adorable, you know?

She often has fleeting thoughts of being the one to have brought you up under the sea. Just her a single mom and her three kids as her accomplice in villainy. How she would teach you how to brew the most powerful potions and run a good business...

Even now, she watches the curious glint in your eyes as you explore NRC and takes photos of everything, she's happy you have started to discover who you are.

You naturally take a lot of photos of her new makeup looks, along with your eel brothers wearing matching drag with you. She loves to pick up the Polaroids and commits them to memory, swiping her thumb over herself along with her children's faces lovingly.

It was during one of your weekly drag/makeup nights together. You had on some dramatic trashy show in the background as you all talked and did makeup. You kept one of your eyes closed ad Flotsam hangs on your neck like a scarf, using his tail to hold a brush and dab on eyeshadow while you work on Jetsam's eyebrows. Ursula smiled at the sight of her children bonding.

The peace didn't last long, as you made a particularly shady remark about that crow bastard causing Flotsam to cackle and squeeze you slightly, and Jetsam to slap you fave lightly with his tail.

As the Sibling Codex states, you all now must duel in a free for all and allow no survivors. There are no rules to uphold any honor.

Standing up, you pried Flotsam's body making him loosen the grip around your neck, and flung up the arm that Jetsam was anchored on.

Comically, the dangling eel slapped the camera sitting on the coffee table up from where it was and snap a photo.

"Jetsam! I swear if the camera is broken—" "Hey you're the one that flung me!"

Picking up the camera and looking it over you let out a breath of relief before checking out the film that came out

"Come here dear let me see..." Urusla spoke as you walked over.

Though slightly blurry, the photo featured all of you. You had a bright smile on your features as did your siblings who were smushed into you as fashionable accessories. In the background, Ursula sat elegantly admiring her children. And though she wasn't the center of the photo, she loved to see her children happy.

Were she were back in her grotto, this photo would have been displayed as one of her most prized possessions.

Jafar + Iago

It wasn't often he dreamt, but when he did, he dreamed big. He was Sultan of the Sands and the most powerful sorcerer of all with you as his heir by his side. Sure, Iago would be there too he supposes...

He would rule with an iron fist and bring about a Golden Age for his kingdom while tutoring you on the side, teaching you laws and ideals and the most powerful spells he knows. There would be all sorts of depictions of the two of you, mosaics, tapestries, poems, paintings, and perhaps even a few statues as well.

You would both be depicted as you should: powerful and intelligent... and Iagos there too he guesses...

So imagine his surprise when his favorite photo isn't a pretentious one at all.

When you first got your camera, he took pride in being photographed and always posed his very best, he wouldn't stand for any unsightly photos you may try to take. He would stand tall with Iago on his shoulder and staff in hand, evil and powerful. He would hate to be depicted as anything less.

As you set up the ghost camera on the stand, you start to take a few experimental photos as well as test out the timer function on it. Honesty it was thanks to Jafar it worked, his intuition and knowledge of technology were always remarkable.

"Any more trouble from that device, Yuu?" Jafar's voice snaps you out of focus as you turn to him standing in the common room, Iago perched where he usually was. "Nope not anymore, thank you Baba" you smile as you check out the camera again.

"Want to try and take a photo with me to test it out?" "If you mean one of those 'selfies' I will have to refuse!" "No, no, not like that I promise!"

Arching a brow and heaving a sigh Jafar relents. You get to work setting up the camera before running over to pose with them. You watched as the timer counted down... 4...3...2...

Suddenly, you throw yourself into Jafar in a deep hug as Iago squawks indignantly. The flash goes off. Sputtering for a moment as he takes a moment to adjust himself, he huffs. "What was the meaning of that Diamond?" Jafar snaps as he shoots you a glare. "Yeah that's the big deal?!" Iago cawed.

You smirked as you snagged the Polaroid out of the camera and aired it out with a few shakes before showing the pair.

The photo showed you pulling Jafar closer to you, holding onto and nuzzling into him dearly like a toddler would do their mother. He actually wore the slightest smile in the photo. Iago's wings were spread and for once he looked like the lively bird he was and not some villainous lackey.

"I have a lot of photos of Jafar and Iago, but none of my baba and my friend" You muttered holding the photo close to you. "But now I do, and don't worry it's for my eyes only... I would hate to ruin your image.

Jafar shuts his eyes for a moment, perhaps he was unintentionally and unknowingly strict. "No no, retake the photo, little one." He says as he holds your shoulder. "Let's take another photo as a family this time."

Jafar and Iago both sat on the rickety couch of Ramshackle as you set up the camera again before running back and sitting next to them. Iago hopped into your lap as you hugged the vizier. Jafar looked down at you both lovingly before wrapping his arms around you gently, allowing the camera to snap, and like that, his favorite photo of you was made.

Queen Grimhilde + The Raven

Ever since staying in Ramshackle, the Evil Queen would dream about being back home in her palace. She would walk down the halls of rooms and for a moment pretend the floors were stone and echoed with her steps and not creak under her weight. The walls were to be lined with intricate decor and tapestries along with art, and as she walks into your room to look at the mirror, she imagines it's her vanity where she would admire herself.

Raven stood on her shoulder preening her and she shut her eyes imagining the glory days when she ruled but this time she imagines herself with you at her side.

How you would sit on the stool in front of her vanity and look at yourself in the mirror as she clasps a necklace onto you after she finished dressing you up. How you would walk beside her amongst the guards and servants as she enters the throne room which used to have a lone throne but now has two.

How you would both sit regally as she deals with nobles and teach you how to rule with an iron fist and to be your worst possible self. How she would take you to her garden and poisons and teach you how to grow and use each one, later taking you into her study to practice your potionology.

You deserved much better than this place in her eyes, and once she gets her body back she will ensure you both rise to power once again. Even if you are currently living in a... less than ideal situation she will have you carry yourself with the same level of respect and pride she feels like you should have.

She shows you which plants can be used for hair and skin and makeup. She shows you how to embroider your clothes and sew. She shows you proper manners for everything as well— no child of hers will be taken for a slob. Your elegance hides your wild side and villainous upbringing well, only showing it to those who are worthy.

Her ghost sits across from you in the guest room, a glass of tea poured out for her in her honor though she can't drink from it. You finish up your latest piece as you push the needle through a few more times. Letting out a breath of relief, you tuck away the needle and hold out the new dress shirt you made in your preferred style. "Good work," she says approvingly as the Raven lets out a squawk, and you both continue to chat about your day.

The next day, you put on the shirt you worked so hard on, slipping on the right pants, shoes, and homemade accessories to match. Today, your mother decides to help you put on some light makeup, her ghost guiding your hands to apply foundation.

She then helps you put on your accessories and she is reminded of the fantasy she had the other day. "Thank you, Mama." You say smiling. "I guess this is my first official... complete outfit..." You didn't any decent clothes to start with since coming here, and even when you wore nicer things, you could never truly make it your own, you couldn't have your own style. Yet in the mirror you see all of your hard work put into sewing and saving, creating an outfit from your mother's love.

You look at yourself in the hand mirror you own as the Queen holds your face lovingly. "Shall we take a photo to commemorate the occasion?" You ask, smiling. "Ah yes, that ghost camera of yours can see me, can't it?"

You nod and begin to set the camera up. The Queen never cared for the photos it took, preferring the status symbol of oil paintings in her castle. As you stood next, she helped to pose you at the perfect angle, adjusting your posture and such as she stood beside you, hand on your head.

The photo came out, and it was as perfect as she would imagine it to be. Admiring it, she thinks back to getting her power again and her castle back, and for some reason, the first thing she imagines doing is to recreate this portrait with you, this time in paint, and the highest quality clothes you want.

Hades + Pain & Panic

His favorite photo of you? One where you look your best, one where you look powerful and strong and— oh wait his favorite photo of you?

When Hades found out the ghost camera can register him, he and his imps were over the moon. You best believe you had to make him look cool. (You gave in because Hades was never given the same respectable portraits compared to his family).

Every photo of him portraying him positively... touched my heart. He wasn't the unwanted brother or the laughing stock, outcasted and forgotten. He was Hades, God of the Underworld.

The imps also loved any photos of them taken positively, but they also didn't mind the funny ones too. Honestly, these two were absolute menaces with the camera, often stealing it and taking the worst photos of you.

Though you have some photos of yourself, or with your friends, none of them ever truly called out to Hades. He would simply see some as neat or use photos to lovingly bully you. Yet when he thought about it, all of his siblings seemed to always have some sort of art piece representing their children, he remembers Zeus and his insane amount of photos of his brat when he was born after all. He can't help but sort of desire one... but what?

For a good, while he can't help but look at all the photos you take and pay special attention to the ones that you were in— you best believe that if you have a photo with one of your friends he's gonna tease you for your "boyfriend".

As he goes through them he tries to find one that feels like it shows off his kid well, yet he can't. You look good in all of your photos, but you didn't feel like you. That's the one thing he's noticed since coming here. You couldn’t be your true self, you weren't allowed to bare your teeth and be truly free the way you should be.

Hades actually stews on this for a while silently, Pain and Panic bother him about it much to his chagrin. As the days went by Hades seemed to get more and more and more annoyed by your environment sucking the life out of you. Homework was annoying, Ramshackle sucked, and that damned crow bastard keeps dumping responsibility onto you! How is his kiddo supposed to shine like this?!

Recently, Crowley dumped another annoying task onto you— something stupid about looking into clumsy kids. You hated it but got Pain and Panic ready to help you as you went about interviewing victims and such. It was rotten work.

Maleficent + Diaval

Eventually, with your idiot squad, things picked up, and you came up with the idea of catching the perpetrator with your camera, as Crowley states he needs evidence. One thing led to another. Here we are in the Savanahclaw Dorm, facing the lion down face to face. Pain and Panic stood on either side of you as you stood your ground, stance widening to prepare for a fight.

And fight you did. Hades watched in absolute awe as you fought against the blot, rolling and sliding past attacks while seizing any opportunity to get a hit or to create an opening for your friends. Pain and Panic both helped, occasionally lashing at Leona to throw off his aim or providing your some healing and shielding with their shapeshifting abilities.

As the dust settled, and the sun rose higher in the sky, your silhouette stood amongst the rubble as you panted, fists still clenched. You had a powerful aura around you along with a steely gaze as you stared down at the lion beneath you. Panic suddenly pops up, ghost camera in hand as he snaps a photo. "How's that for proof?" he snickers alongside Pain as you finally relax.

The photo standing over your opponent had exactly what the other photos of you lacked. There was a fire in your eyes, a confident stance, and though dirt-covered and sweaty, you were unapologetically you in the moment. Not to mention badass.

Yet that wasn't the only reason Hades adored it. The image reminded of him Zeus' brat he despised. How that damned Hercules would be painted and shown off everywhere as a legend with his powerful stance, often standing over the slain monsters that Hades meticulously put together to defeat him.

And yet... here you were: A mirror image of him, a perfect foil. And unlike Hercules, you were still here and so was he. That brat failed to kill him. Through his child, he has won... Ha! Take that, Zeus! Just wait for round 2! This time, he won't fail.

Maleficent is also one who doesn't understand newer technology. She simply can't wrap her head around a device that makes portraits instantly without magic. After a bit of explanation from Diaval (who still doesn't know much), she simply accepts it.

Like Grimhilde, the Fae much prefers painted portraits, and often finds herself imagining how you would look in one every time she sees one of your "selfies".

The Fae Queen finds it endearing that you want to take photos of her and your dear uncle Diaval, trying your best to make some good memories in this miserable place. Even on your nightly walks together, you bring your camera with you to photograph the wildlife around you.

Seeing your features light up just by seeing the smallest bug makes her feel a strange sense of pride as if this proves you belong to her and the forest of the fae. She's glad to know that enjoys nature just as much as her.

Passing by a small pond, the three of you pause for a moment. Diaval, in his crow form, is happily perched onto your shoulder, nuzzling and preening you as you give him a few scratches and look up to the night sky above you. As your eyes reflect the stars, Maleficent is reminded of a fond memory.

You were a child at the time, to be honest, she couldn't tell you how old you were, at her age, all children start looking the same.

The fae was coming to terms with being a ghost— a ghost stuck inside a child no less— and she certainly did not appreciate it. How could such a pudgy and idiotic vessel possibly be worthy of the Mistress of All Evil?

She would sneer at the idea of growing attached to you. Even as your child self waved and smiles at her, she snarled in response, baring her fangs at you. To her surprise, you merely giggled. She wasn't amused.

No matter how many times she snapped and told you to go away, or order Diaval to distract you, you would always come back to her eventually. She just didn't get it, why do you like her so much?! Under the guise of not wasting her breath or energy, she stopped trying to distance herself from you, allowing your small baby hands to play with her cloak or touch her horns. You were a curious little beastie, weren't you?

She remembers watching you grow up little by little, watching your kid self play with Diaval as a crow and give each other affection, how she cast protection spells on you as you ran through the forest barefoot, cursing any sharp stones you may step on.

She remembers guiding you as you picked berries and copied the animals you saw. She remembers singing you lullabies and telling you stories of her home, hoping she could take you to it. Her warnings about trusting men.

She remembers how unequivocally she fell for the child that melted her heart, and how she assigned Diaval to you, making him promise to always watch out for you and to serve you as he did her.

And she especially remembers how you approached her with a scribbled-on, crumpled sheet of paper. You babbled as you held up the piece to her. Kneeling down with her usual stern expression, she examined the scribbles closer.

Crude lines depicted an all-black horned figure holding a staff in one hand, hand awkwardly stretched out to touch hands with the tiny figure in the middle. An attempt at a blackbird was drawn in the other outstretched hand of the child, its best open in a caw. All of the figures had clumsy smiles. Arrows pointed to all of the figures labeled 'Me' 'Malycent' and 'Diovl'

Diaval perched on Maleficent's shoulder, getting the best look he could before swooping in and nuzzling your kid self. As you laughed and giggled Maleficent allowed a small smile to grace her features as she watches you play.

To this day, she still has the piece of paper in her cloak, enchanted with the strongest protection spell she could do in her current state. In her mind, no other portrait than the one you drew could ever compare.

Perhaps one day when she rules from her thorny castle, she will have this art piece framed in her study, for her eyes only.

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bongo-clash · 2 years

Text

Peacock Au Part 1

Okay so Big Huge credit to @stealingyourbones for letting me do my own take on their amazing eldritch Danny idea!!!! This started out as me just doing a drawing but then I ended up with a whole DPxDC fic that I'll be posting the part two for at some point!!! Anyway, here's the vague designs:

And here's the part one of the fic under the cut!!! :D (Edit: Part 2 is Here!!)

There’s a Lazarus Pit forming underneath Gotham. Normally, this would not concern John Constantine at all, because it’s Gotham, therefore Bat territory therefore not his problem, and honestly he has his own things to worry about. Unfortunately for him, however, the infamous Dark Knight has somehow gotten it into his head that he can do something about it and, Hell, he’d said it would be a ‘big favour’, which meant the man really must be desperate; had to have been in the first place, he supposed, to have even bothered with John in the first place.

Still, he’d almost kind of forgotten what a huge mess any kind of favour for Batman could be, and thus, he now holds possession of a book that is probably going to get him killed.

Whether the actual book itself wants to kill him is up for debate, but Constantine has read the contents of this particular Book of Summonings and nothing in here seems remotely safe. He’s absolutely going to be hiding this away somewhere deep in the archives of the archives of the Justice League watchtower with an incredibly pointed ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ on it once he’s done with this, but for now, it’s the only thing he’s got in the way of sorting out this Pit problem.

There’s an entity that exists, this book claims, that keeps the balance between realms. ‘Closes doors’, apparently, and the doors the pages depict certainly look like a Lazarus Pit. This is brilliant news, obviously, but the book doesn’t describe the entity itself at all beyond that; barely any of the other entries are as vague as this, and that plus some of the frankly bizarre sigils he’s having to draw to summon the damn thing are giving him no comfort. The only remotely comforting thing about it is that the ritual doesn’t require any blood- which either means the entity is benign, or it wants something more valuable than blood.

…Okay, maybe not that comforting, actually.

But, before he can consider that maybe this wasn’t his best idea and backing out would be for the best, the sigils flare with light, and Constantine squints to keep track of the way they activate, desperate for any indication of what he’s managed to summon with that stupid book.

His feet feel feathery against the ground, like they’re barely tethered by gravity and just waiting to float away, and perhaps the seeming lack of atmosphere is fitting with how dust like stars lift from the summoning circle, bringing with them intercepting layers of purple-blue-pink-white, galaxies and nebulae being peeled off the floor. It comes with a sound- something whistling, almost. Seeming hollow, between a shriek and a bell ringing, or maybe more musical than that. It seems to change every moment he tries to focus on it, as if it’s something his ears can’t really hear but his brain is desperate to process, painful to try.

And then, the entity begins to form.

Unnoticeably at first, a white glow drifts forming in the centre. It congeals as Constantine’s gaze finally fixates on it, layers forming like jellyfish trails, or flowers, or peacock feathers with runic circles at the tips, fading smaller and smaller as they reach the centre, and a thing akin to a body unfolds into view at the front, a centrepiece. A child’s image of a shadow in opalescence, a strange curving feature where a neck might be, and searing-green spots of varying sizes scattered along the space where cheeks and eyes could’ve been, fading up and down across the lower-half of the ‘face’ and into the ‘hair’. He barely understands what he’s looking at, but maybe that’s the point.

The sound of a thunderstorm rings across the room, and the curve of the neck unfolds, and it’s an eye, and the tips of a thousand twisted, cosmic peacock feathers become eyes as well, if they weren’t always. They move, wavering, either lashing or flickering from visibility.

“And what is this?” The voice is a kaleidoscope, echoing off and from every corner of the room, and when they speak, infinite eyes become infinite mouths, too many teeth barely contained by the edges of what seem vaguely like frostbitten lips. To have something even remotely human suddenly etch itself onto the entity is somehow worse than the parts he can’t comprehend. “Who are you, to have summoned me, and seem so afraid?”

Constantine wishes, maybe for the first time, that it hadn’t been an obligation to do this alone; he’s never wanted Batman or one of the Light members with him more than now. It’s a difficult thing, almost impossible, to shake off the speechlessness. It’s a wonder that it’s possible at all, with how the room seems to have been twisted into a vacuum. “I was told you could- you could help with the pits?”

“The pits. There are many pits.”

God, this is creepy. “The Lazarus pits to, uh, to be specific. There’s a huge one cropping up under Gotham that’s not supposed to be there, and the local- I mean, the locals are getting antsy about it. …I heard you can take care of them.”

“I can smell its blood between the gaps of atmosphere, encircling. You, whose soul is bound in so many directions, who may be pulled apart like meat in time- can you sense it? Does it draw you?” John doesn’t know how this- this thing knows that, but he’s scared asking will invoke some kind of consequence, and more and more he’s wondering why the Hell he decided to do Batman this favour. He feels exposed.

“Uh… no, I don’t think so. But can you fix it?”

“Yes.”

“…Will you fix it?”

The chill is getting to him. Goosebumps are running across his arms like a livewire, and he’s never doing anyone a favour ever again. The entity makes an approximation of a hum, his ears shriek with whale song and stars, and after a pause, everything switching up and down on itself, the peacock eyes form into huge, reaching hands. For a second, Constantine’s whole body freezes with terror, because he’s petrified the thing’s going to grab him, but then the arms tumble phasing into the ground, and the green spots on their ‘face’ flare with a supernova glow and they make another piercing noise, chiming or trilling.

A long moment later, the hands slowly return to the entity’s back, and fade into the peacock feathers or jellyfish bells or whatever they were before, blinking at him. “It is gone.”

“Uh… cheers?”

“It will not return, but this place shall see its dead for some time. Try not to look.”

This is maybe the worst day of Constantine’s life. “Can I- uh, yeah, great advice. ‘Appreciate it. But, can I ask just, y’know, what you are? Or not.”

“That is up to you.” They say, and though the eyes that appear briefly between sentences bely or reveal no expression, it feels scrutinising. “What is it that closes doors? Is it alive?”

He hates riddles. He hates riddles and he hates cosmic horrors and he hates eldritch entities and he hates Batman for getting him to agree to this horrible favour. He wants to go back to the House of Mystery and pass out for long enough that this whole thing becomes a dream. “Fair enough! Forget I asked- cheers for sorting out that pit, though. Uh, don’t suppose you’ll just let me go on my way or anything now.”

“I know of your Bat.”

Oh dear. Constantine’s stomach sinks like a shipwreck into the Mariana Trench, but the entity moves on like they’d never even said it. “I will recede, and find you in time, perhaps both. You will know when I am coming, and I will find my recompense.”

And just like that, their whole form shimmers into clouds and pearls and smoke and mirrors, and they fade back into the runes that summoned them like tap water down the drain. The galaxies they’d formulated within the confines of the room fold back in on themselves and turn to whispers and then nothing, but the feeling persists on his skin long after weight has settled back onto his bones. He hadn’t known a thing like that existed until now. He doesn’t know what it can do, doesn’t know how all-encompassing it truly is.

And he owes it a favour.

Crap.

#I'll be posting the part two at some point soon since it's already written out so prepare for that lmao!!#Warning that there might be some mistakes in here since I literally just wrote this and the second part a couple hours ago #This is a Little bit of a thing about my hc on the Ghost Monarchy and how it isn't Actually a monarchy #It's just that the 'king' keeps the actual physical balance of the GZ (ie natural portal stuff) & the title originally had a different name #But when Pariah Dark took the mantle he decided it made him the ruler of the GZ and that's why the Ancients took him down #But I'll talk more abt that if I ever get around to finishing that GZ culture/history/evolution post thing I had planned lmao!!!!#Either way I Love Eldritch Danny sm and writing this was so so fun!!!#Part two will be from Danny's perspective!!!#I might colour those drawings and stuff at some point but for now I like them as they are!!!#Also before I forget I Am still thinking about that pizza delivery guy pt. 2 I just got stuck a bit!!! It'll hopefully appear at some point #dp au #danny phantom au #dpxdc #john constantine #danny phantom fanart #dp fanart #danny phantom #Bongo's Aus!!!#Bongo's Writing!!!#Bongo's Art!!!#tw body horror #peacock au

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cupcakeslushie · 3 months

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Hey Slushie. I have some questions about your AU:

1. I am seriously confused on Donnie’s situation in the bad timeline.

like I know it was mentioned in one of your short stories when he and Mikey were having a quarrel and that red thing-a-ma-bob but it is still very unclear to me.

2. When Donnie meets mayday, how does he process the fact that his older self made a child of his own genes and what would timothies reaction be (both in the good timeline and the bad timeline [I know the bad timeline one is mentioned but like J want his initial reaction])

3. (related to the 2nd Q) did Timothy know about his idea of making a child before she was made. If he did, ot would show a really powerful trust that Donnie has for Timothy

4. in the good/bad timeline, what is Mayday’s reaction to draxum before and after she found out about what he did to her father.

5. How does Timothy help with Donnie’s hallucinations and since Mayday is his child, does she also have them, like about never saving her father or not being strong enough.

6. In canon, The mud dogs are the complete opposite of the mad dogs. So since everyone is a bit different, what will the mud dogs in your AU look like.

Yeah… these are a lot of questions and I hope it isn’t too much. Hope you can answer them and please, continue the great work!!!

1. So, it’s okay you’re confused. I’ve only given out a small amount of teasers for the direction that the future timeline is going. There’s been a bit more expansion on my patreon, but not much. The little bits I’ve dropped are more world building and filler, and less plot. So I don’t want to say too much. There hasn’t been any more expansion on that stone in particular. Just know, it’s Krang related, and we’ll see it again! I’m setting things up that we’ll see further down the line. Some stuff I’m okay with mapping every little bit out for ppl but there is some stuff I’d like to keep you guessing 😜!

2. This is one of those things I’m keeping shh🤫!

3. Timothy knew that Donnie was trying to come up with contingencies, but he thought the plans were more along the lines of like some kind of binder with all his passwords, or maybe a cool ass avatar that could still control the resistance tech in a worst case scenario (*subtle wink at Kat*) Timothy had no idea about Mayday or Donnie trying to create clones.

4. She’s heard a few sanitized stories, but Mayday of the bad timeline has never met Draxum (he was already dead). And in her traveling to the past, I don’t think she’ll meet him. Like canon, Draxum won’t be taking part in the movie plot—also I’m still not sure of Mayday’s post-movie future, so bad timeline Mayday might never even get the chance to meet her Grandfather at all.

But Baby Mayday in the good timeline, on the other hand, will grow up with Draxum around. She won’t be given all the details until she’s probably old enough to understand the complexity of the situation. She’ll be conflicted, but with Donnie being in a healthier place, and her getting a very watered down side of things, Mayday will find she can’t hate her Grandfather for long. Her uncles have all done stuff they’re not proud of, she can still love them, and so despite the things he’s done in the past she can still love Grandpa Draxum.

5. Timothy will sometimes ramble on about his favorite anime, comics, or video games, or he’ll just read a book while being present in the same room. He can walk Donnie through breathing or grounding exercises when things get really intense. Mayday doesn’t have Donnie’s hallucinations.

7. Sorry, to say. I like the Mud Dogs enough in the show, but they’d pretty much be the same.

#rottmnt #ask slushie

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Can Anybody See Me? Part 21

Executive dysfunction is a bitch and can go to hell. I had something I could have posted yesterday while I was working on this, but no...

I am starting to wonder if maybe I shot myself in the foot with my tag rant as engagement for the last Reconnect AU was WAY down. But oh well. I can only continue to move on and hope I find new people who like my stuff.

All righty, my lovelies. We have gotten to the part where I was going to end it originally before you absolute menaces said you wanted me to continue it through season 4.

But here’s the deal, this story has reached nearly novel length of 40k. So what I’ve decided to do is call this the end of book one. And then I will start up book two, which will be through to the end of the school year and probably through the events of season 3. And then book 3 should take us the rest of the way.

I hope that’s acceptable to all of you. I want to continue it, but I think from here on out the title doesn’t fit Steve anymore and he needs a new one.

Now if you’ve followed me long enough, you know that I don’t start putting out a story until it’s done (if it’s short enough) or if I’m three to four chapters deep. So hopefully by the end of the month (if not sooner) you should start seeing book two.

I will run a poll on how you think I should do the tag list for it. But thank you all for coming with me on this absolutely wild ride. And hope you’ll stick around for the next two parts.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

***

Word had been handed down, Mindy Jones, Ollie Anderson, and Kyle Carver had been suspended with word that Kyle being the instigator might be expelled. For sure he wasn’t going to be able to walk in his cap and gown at graduation.

Steve felt a sense of relief and strangely justice too. Yes, all right suspension wasn’t getting expelled, but the kids had been punished. They didn’t try to hand wave it away.

Steve had heard that Mr Vinke, the math teacher, Mr Cole, Miss Lucy, and Chief Hopper had all gone to the principal and superintendent for all three of them to be expelled.

The suspension was a given, but the school district wanted to do their own investigation and then expulsions might be handed out after it was complete.

Steve didn’t have much hope.

Marty, Gethin, and Janice all sat with the Corroded Coffin boys at lunch, something they didn’t normally do.

“Fuck,” Janice swore. “Why I am more nervous about tonight than I have all week?”

Steve nodded, poking at his food. “I haven’t been this queasy since I took a plate to the head.”

Everyone winced and murmured sympathetic platitudes and other noises of sympathy.

“I think it’s because it’s your last performance,” Gethin murmured. “Your last chance to completely biff it on stage.” Steve and Janice looked at him in wide-eyed fear. He waved his hands placatingly. “Not that I think you will. Just that your brain thinks you will.”

Steve and Janice looked at each other and then nodded.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “That tracks.”

Eddie slid his hand under the table and gripped Steve’s knee. Steve covered his hand with his own and gave it a squeeze of thank you.

Steve scanned the crowd the second night. He spotted Jeff and all his family, Gareth and Gethin and their parents, Brian and all of his younger siblings, and what looked like his dad. Wayne shuffled in his seat nervously, having never been to a musical before. But still no sign of his parents.

His mom promised that at least she would be there, even if his dad refused to come. And he held on to that. He managed to make it through the show and held it together.

He went out to be congratulated by his friends and their families. Wayne brought him flowers.

“You did good, boy,” he said gruffly, after giving him a hug. “I looked it up and flowers are the gift you give someone after a well-done performance.”

Steve looked down at the bouquet of wild flowers and smiled. “Thank you. I love them.”

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder. “They might be a tad wilted by the time we’re done, because we’re taking you out to eat in celebration.”

Steve teared up a bit. “Thanks, guys.”

Gareth smiled. “You deserve it, man. That was awesome!”

Gethin nudged his shoulder. “We’re just waiting for Janice and Eddie to get done.”

Steve nodded. Eddie had to reset the stage for tomorrow and Janice had to get out of a corset and that took some time.

“Yeah, no problem!” he enthused.

Eddie finished first and came out to meet them.

“Hey, Steve!” he said. “Feeling famous yet?”

Steve laughed. “I’m going to get fat if this keeps up. First ice cream last night and then dinner tonight.”

They all laughed. “It’s impossible for you to gain weight, man,” Brian huffed. “I’ve seen you eat a whole pizza and didn’t even get bloated.”

Steve laughed. “Playing three sports does that to you. Hell, I still life guard at the rec center every summer.”

Brian eyed his lean form skeptically. “I suppose so.”

“Swimming’s fun,” Steve said. “And it’s not just for us jock types.”

Janice finally came out. “Sorry to keep you waiting guys. Sharing with Tammy Thompson is hell let me tell you. I don’t know how someone so tiny can take up so much room.”

“At least you don’t have to share the choir room with twenty sweaty dudes that wouldn’t know deodorant if it bit them in the ass,” Steve grumped.

Gethin shook his head. “Shouldn’t you be used to that from sports?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “At least there are showers after basketball. Can’t say the same here.”

Gethin’s lips curled. “Fair.”

Wayne clapped his hands. “All right, I’ve got us a place reserved, so we need to hustle. Eddie and Steve are coming with me.”

Eddie and Steve filed out with the rest of them and followed Wayne out to his truck.

Steve slid into the middle between Eddie and Wayne.

“Thanks for this, Wayne,” he murmured. “And the flowers, too.”

“You’re welcome, Stevie,” he said. “I didn’t see your parents. Did they show up last night?”

Steve shared a glance with Eddie and then shook his head. “There’s still tomorrow.”

Wayne and Eddie shared a glance of concern over Steve’s head.

“I’m sure that’s the case,” Wayne agreed.

An uneasy silence settled on them as they drove to the restaurant. Wayne parked and turned to Steve.

He pulled him in for a great big hug and then opened the door. “It’ll be all right.”

Steve nodded and slid out after Eddie.

The dinner was just as ruckus as the ice cream parlor the night before. With just as many people. Steve looked around and smiled.

Yeah, 1985 was his year and it was just getting started.

Steve looked out to the audience and knew, even in the dimmed lights his parents weren’t there.

“Tell me, Mr Thomson, out of curiosity, do you stand with Mr Dickinson, or do you stand with me?” Vince asked.

Steve could feel the sting of tears in his eyes. He held up the dispatch. “I stand with the General. Lately–I’ve had the oddest feeling that he’s been–writing to me…”

He slowly rose to his feet as he sang,

“I have been in expectation Of receiving a reply On the subject of my last fifteen dispatches. Is anybody there?”

His voice cracked with emotion as he stepped half out of the spotlight.

“Does anybody care? Does anybody care? Y’r humble & ob’d’t–”

The drum rolled and Steve looked up into the eagle’s nest where Eddie was doing the spotlight. A single tear ran down his cheek.

Steve looked down at the paper in his hand and then back up at Eddie. And then he exited the scene on cue.

Eddie swore he saw more tears in that moment then for ‘Mama Look Sharp’ that night.

But that performance of Steve’s brought out something in Vince in that moment. Vince’s John Adams bid Hancock good night, but then it changed. All the emotion and fear of not being seen or heard. The loneliness that Adams must have been feeling in that moment, borrowed from the loneliness of both Washington and Thomson.

“Is anybody there–”

Silence.

“Does anybody care–?”

Again, nothing.

“Does anybody see–what I see?”

And then Kenny came on and delivered the line with a sharpness that hadn’t been there before.

“Yes, Mr Adams, I do.” As if to banish all the fears and insecurities that John was having in that moment.

And Steve could almost hear it as though it was coming from Eddie. As if it was coming from his friends. The party. Wayne.

Yes, his parents weren’t there. They never were. And probably never were going to be. But that didn’t mean that no one was listening to Steve. That no one cared.

They all cared. Every last one of the dozens of people that showed up the last two nights. They cared. They brought their families. Brought flowers. Thought he was worthy of celebrating. Worth treating.

For the boy with the bat.

The boy that never knew what love really was until he looked up from a god damned garbage can into those warm and friendly brown eyes. A warm hand on his back and a gentle ‘Are you okay?’

In that moment, Steve’s life had become changed. Different. Better. All because a teacher took pity on Steve and chose Eddie Munson of all people to be Steve’s protector.

And he looked up at Eddie in the rafters and though he couldn’t see him, he knew that Eddie was looking back at him. Smiling back at him. Loving him for all his worth.

And if you had asked Steve what his worth was back in December he would have told you nothing. He wasn’t worth anything but being the baby-sitter. But now?

Now Steve was a baby-sitter, chauffeur, groupie, actor, chef, swimmer, friend, brother, and most importantly boyfriend. And maybe if he was really lucky, someone’s son.

***

Fin.

Fuck, rereading this to add back in the formatting made me cry. My apologies if it makes you cry too.

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @garden-of-gay @anaibis @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @lovelyscot @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @jinxjinn @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @estrellami-1 @dangdirtydemons @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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starrywooyo · 3 months

Text

treasure: Six

synopsis: when y/n gets whooshed into an alternate universe, an adventure: one with pirates and monsters and much, much more

pairing: ot8! pirate ateez x fem! reader

genre: pirate au!!

!!warnings(per chapter)!! - [bellow cut!] no warnings i can think of- plz lmk if there is

notes: omg- guess who's backkkkk with an update!! I'm so sorry it's taken this long to get this chapter out.. i also split this chapter into 2 since i felt its a bit much to read with it being so long.. or do you guys not mind really long parts/chapters?? maybe i also done it to keep you guys in suspense too 😏😏

word count: 4.3k

taglist: (if you want removed or added to the list please lmk)

@toxic-babexe , @sunnyhokyu , @cambriel , @lelaleleb

if if missed anyone again just let me know! i also don't know where my tag list is so please let me know if you wanted added and are not on here

series masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter | next chapter

previously:

hongjoong stands, placing his hands in the table, slightly leaning forward.

“I have some news I want to share” he says

your breath gets stuck in your throat. He doesn't know, does he??

“i have progress of our voyage for the Cromer.” he adds

everyone now gives him their full attention.

“thanks to sedna here, we have our heading. it'll be a long, dangerous journey but I know we as a team, a crew. can manage it!! we will get the cromer before they do”

You don't know how long, it’s most likely been days that have passed. All you can see from the horizon is the ocean and then more ocean.. Water as far as the eye can see.

Crew are starting to feel as though this mission is lost, that you were all lost on the sea, some starting to get bored out of their minds.

You sigh

“What’s wrong?” a voice asks

You close your book over

“Are we ever going to reach wherever it is we’re trying to get to yeosang?” you ask

He bookmarks his own book and lets out a small laugh.

“I’d tell you to be patient but I feel we’re all getting a bit restless these days, we’ll get there all in good time y/n.. Now let's continue reading shall we?” he replies and then proceeds to open his book to continue reading.

Deciding to do the same you reopen your own book and continue reading.

…

You toss and turn in your bed, unable to get some sleep. You still can't help the thoughts that pass through your mind. Tossing off the covers you pull your boots on and make your way through the ship.

It's mostly quiet as you walk down the corridor, the only thing to be heard being the waves crashing outside the ship and the slight creak of the wooden floorboards, the rest of the crew getting some kip while they can.

Walking up the stairs you slightly shiver from the nip from the cold air, rubbing your arms you take no notice of your surroundings and make your way to your spot you like to rest on at the front of the bow.

Leaning on the wood, you look out into the dark, there's not much visibility bar the light coming from the little lantern hanging down but when you look up, you’re in awe. The stars are out and shining bright. They look so… pretty. You wish you had a camera so you could capture this moment

Still gazing at the stars above you don't catch the sound of someone walking up behind you

“D’you like stargazing?”

You flinch turning to the voice

He laughs slightly “sorry didn't mean to scare ya” he says leaning beside you

You finally take in your surroundings you notice hongjoong is at the wheel and that's pretty much everyone who’s still awake

You turn back to him, he’s just looking at you intently

He gestures to the stars with his head and asks again.

“D’you like stargazing. y/n?” he asks.

“I do.. Do you like the stars, Yunho?” you ask him.

He smiles

“I do, being a lookout i get to see ‘em pretty much every night, i know a lot of the constellations too but what ‘re you doing awake at this time.. Can’t sleep??” he asks

You shake your head

He looks away for a second, then walks away a little bit and hold out his hand for you to take.

“Follow me”

You take ahold of his hand and he and he begins to lead you up the stairs past hongjoong at the helm to where the mizzen mast stands.

“Ladies first” he gestures to the rope ladder

And you climb up till you get to the barrel-like section at the top and yunho climbs in after you.

“It’s easier to see the stars from up here” he says and blows the candle out from the little lantern that's hung up in the mast so that he or wooyoung can have a little light when they need it. And then he sits beside you on the ground and tucks his legs up to his chest just like you.

Looking up you can see all the pretty twinkling lights and you’re in awe of them all.

A light tap on your shoulder brings you back to the man sitting beside you, and you listen and watch intently as he points out various stars and constellations and explains some of them to you

…

You shiver slightly rubbing your arms as a chill wind blows through you in the mast.

“Hmm cold?” yunho asks, tilting his head to the side a little.

You nod “ a little bit.. Yeah”

He shuffles about a bit in the space and opens the basket sitting in the corner, and pulls out a worn out greyish blue blanket

“ ‘ere “ he wraps the blanket around you and you pull it tighter around yourself

“it does get pretty chilly up here so there's a blanket in every basket for the three masts just in case you need that information” he laughs a bit and he sits back into his spot beside you on the ground and he wraps one of his arms around you pulling you closer to his side

“See that one ‘ere.. thats pleiades its-” he stops seeing you are now fast asleep he breathes out a laugh and then pulls you closer to his chest and then proceeds to fall asleep not long after you

…

You’re drawn out of your slumber from people talking in hushed tones, one of which you know to be yunho but the other you can't tell, still being in a haze.. The other person leaves.

“Yunho..” you voice out.

He hums

“What's the prettiest star youve seen?” you ask randomly still in your sleepy haze while wrapping your arms around his waist snuggling into him

“Hmm well… it's not actually a star but the aurora’s the most beautiful thing i've seen in my life time”

You smile and shut your eyes again resting your head on his chest

“I'd like to see that too” you say as you slowly drift off

Yunho rubs your back as you do

“I'll take you to see it.. Don't worry”

…

Your eyes flicker open and you stretch bones clicking in the process. Scanning your surroundings you see you’re still up in the mast with yunho still wrapped up in his arms as you shuffle around he stirs in his sleep, hands coming up to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Hmm good morning” he says, his voice still laced with sleep.

You reply to him and the both of you begin to make your way to the kitchen to get something to eat before everyone else.

You grab a bread roll as does yunho as well as an apple that yunho reluctantly lets you cut up yourself with your history of knives.

“Thank you.. By the way” you say as you begin to nibble on your food “for last night.. I had a good sleep thanks to you, yunho” you smile.

“Don’t worry about it, m’glad you could get some rest”

You both sit and continue to eat your food in the peaceful silence quite content.. Until it wasn't- more of the crew came piling in to grab their own breakfast before getting to work and it's then that yunho leaves you to go do his own chores around the ship again. And you go and join yeosang again.

…

“So where is it exactly we’re going yeo??” you ask him

“Well we’re going here to this docking town to restock supplies then we’ll head east or ‘tis where captain says we need to go” he explains pointing places out to you on the map “not to worry though, we’re almost there i'd assume we’d be arriving to the dock at any minute”

And he was right, you were in fact pulling up to the dock but not 20 minutes later.

Most of the crew started flowing out the ship, stretching. Their feet finally on firm solid ground. Standing on the dock you watch in silence as members of the crew converse with the workers on the dock, seonghwa wagering with the man how many pieces of gold would grant the amount of time the ship could stay docked

In the distance you see hongjoong talking with sedna about what.. You don't know but it looks to be a serious conversation. The conversation stops and he seems to make his way back over to you all and he speaks.

“I want everyone to stock up on supplies they may need and rations for the ship as for seonghwa, mingi, jongho, yunho, wooyoung and san you all come with me.. y/n you stay with yeosang” he says then he claps his hands together.

“Okay. everyone get to work” he says and he and his little team head off.

…

And so you walk through the streets of the town with yeosang carrying some of the things he buys to help him carry them back. You’re bored out of your mind, it’s been a good few hours since hongjoong and the crew left to god knows where. And you wont lie, you’re curious so… you pester yeosang about it. To which he replies something about a mini mission for the actual mission..just boring stuff

“Hey y/n.. I'm gonna nip into this last shop real quick. Can you wait out here for a second?” yeosang asks you, you nod watching him through the window of the store after he enters.

Bored you end up zoning out looking in the opposite direction, lost in your own thoughts.

Something catches your attention, as you stare your features contort in confusion

What.. is.. that..!?

You must've been staring for a long time as you’re brought out from your trance from yeosang calling you

“y/n… you good?” he asks, looking worried.

You hum

“Hmm.. yeah.. I thought I saw..” you look back, the thing is no longer there “nothing.. nevermind ..”

And then the both of you head back to the ship.

…

The others didn't get back to the ship until a long while after you, some covered in cuts and other bruises.. Just what was the ‘mission’

San ushers those with cuts to his study to clean the wounds up the rest follow hongjoong to his cabin and you’re left in the dark.. Not included. So you just help the other crew carry the stock onto the ship

…

With the ship now stocked and ready for the vast journey on the water you can finally start the main voyage.

The main 8 currently gathered in the captains cabin, map sprawled out on the table as hongjoong points to the locations on the map and explains in detail the route to be taken for this quest.

They all end up piling out of the foom after a few hours

You sit in your cabin seemingly lost in deep thought

“A penny for yer thoughts y/n.. What's got yer mind so busy” there's a knock from the doorframe.

Being drawn from your thoughts your head snaps to the doorway.

Hongjoong leans on the frame, sleeves of his white button shirt rolled up and his jacket discarded, being held in his hands.

You frown.. Thinking about it some more

“It’s nothing” you brush it off

He sighs

“May i?” he asks, gesturing to your room, you nod and he enters placing his jacket on your bed and taking a seat next to you.

“It cant be nothin if its got you frowning like that.. Did somethin happen??” he asks slight worry on his face

“No.. nothing happened per say.. I just.. I don't know.. I saw something but i don't know if my brain was playing tricks on me”

“Whatd ye see? Maybe I can help if I know what it was?” he pries some more..

You turn to face him

“I thought i.. When you and the others went on that little mission.. When i was shopping with yeosang.. i .. i thought i saw you.. Only it wasn't you?? I don't know.. you had different clothes on and.. All black and a black hat too” you laugh “i’m going crazy right?” you ask him

Only a sinking feeling comes to your chest as you see his face, its pale as if the colours been drained out

“y/n.” he begins “if you see that person again or someone similar. I need you to tell me or one of the others.. Can you do that for me?” he asks

You nod.

He shakes his head “no. i need you to say you’ll do it. Promise me you will”

You tilt your head in confusion

“I will” you say

“Good” he starts to grab his jacket and stands to leave the room

“But hongjoong,who or what was that?” you ask

“You don’t need to know that right now” and with that he leaves the room.

…

The ship comes to a stop with a sudden jerk, an island in the close distance.

Hongjoong stands giving commands as the crew rushes about the ship preparing to leave the ship and get to the piece of land on the longboats.

Chucking equipment onto the small boats crew piling in and getting lowered to the ocean.

Most of you make it to land, some crew having to stay back and watch the ship.

This is it. The main island.. Whatever it is you're searching for. It's here.. Somewhere.

Making camp on the beach tents get set up in all different sizes as well as some crates as makeshift tables, a fire being planned to get set up in the middle of camp.

“Yunho, wooyoung go scout the surroundings and make sure its safe” hongjoong orders. And the two do as told with woo whining a tad.

“And y/n, mingi, jongho come with me.. Lets split up and get some firewood for that fire later”

And the four of you make your way up the sandy dunes to the entrance of the woods. And slowly you all creep in.

You walk a good few minutes in far enough in that there's branches and leaves

“Just take as much as you can carry, we won't be camped on the beach long, take just enough to keep the fire going overnight and to cook a dinner” hongjoong says and begins to pick up the sticks on the ground and the other three of you follow suit.

With arms now filled with branches and dry leaves for kindling you make your way back to camp on the beach and dump the wood on the ground where the fire will be set up. And seonghwa comes along and gets started on the fire and you watch him intently; he starts by taking stones from the beach to which you help and places them in a circle for the boundary of the fire, then taking the twigs and branches you all collected and places them neatly in the stone circle, lastly he takes the dried leaves and skaters them throughout the logs.

He pulls from his pocket a rock of flint and holds it securely on one of the big stones surrounding the unlit fire close to some of the kindling and he whips out a small steel dagger. He pauses-

And briefly looks up to you.

“You good?” he asks

You let out a hum

“It's just, you’ve been watching me for a while.. Is it really that interesting?” he asks

You nod

“Hmm! I always used to watch my da- i mean i just think its cool to watch” you tell him

He kind of looks at you with your first choice of words but he decides to not comment on it. And just nods along.

“Y’wanna try then?” he taps the sand beside him

You slightly laugh

“I don't know if i can do it but i'll certainly give it a shot” and you get on your knees beside him.

Seonghwa briefly shows you how to hold the flint and the angle to strike the dagger against it, once you're sure you’ve got the hang of it, you take the items from him and strike the blade against the rock.. Nothing happens the first few times but then all of a sudden a few sparks fly off and land on the leaves slightly letting some smoke travel in the air. Seonghwa gets closer to the leaves and gently blows on them and at last the fire is going!! It works its way through the other twigs and leaves until finally a big blazing fire lights up the camp.

“Why don't you go see what the others are doing and if they need any help while I get started on dinner” seonghwa tells you. And with a nod of your head you're off through the camp.

Walking around the camp you find jongho sitting cleaning out his gun, all the pieces laid out..

You sit in front of him and he looks up from cleaning and gives you an awkward smile

“y/n… hi” he says

“Hi Jongho”

The awkward smile still there he doesn't pay you any mind and goes back to cleaning

Damn this is awkward..

“So.. jongho..” you begin-

“Look y/n. With all due respect just leave me alone” he sort of snaps as he puts the cleaned gun back together “im not interested” he gets up and walks away.

Oh…

Disappointed you sit and look out to the waves.. The sun is starting to set, it hangs low in the sky

Someone takes the place of jongho..

“y/n?” they speak

“Captain.” you reply.

Hongjoong sits across from you.

“I.. um.. I have somethin’ for you.. Will you come with me a minute..?” he asks, his eyes darting everywhere bar into your own.. His cheeks slightly flushed

You let out a small yeah and get up to follow him, he leads you towards his tent and holds open the fabric for you to enter. Which you do.

Hongjoong enters after you and you take a look around the large tent.

There's a make-shift table to the right with a chair and to the left his bed, some clothes folded on top with his hat neatly placed against them and a rucksack laying on the floor at the foot of the bed and some oil lanterns hang in random spots

“y/n.. Come in. don’t just stand there..” he says now standing at the table so you walk closer to the table.

He clears his throat and places a medium-ish flat box on the table in front of you.

“I.. haha um.. It might be weird but.. I got you this.. I know you were lookin at one a while back..” as he rambles on you peel the lid of the box off and your eyes go wide

“A-and you don't have to like it. I know it's not the same one you saw.. And its probably weird that i bought you it-” he continues

“I love it” you whisper out

“That's okay.. Wait- you do?” he asks

You nod and take it out of the box. Inside was a pretty black lace up corset with little white and red flowers embroidered on going up the left side with green vines and on the right side in the same red as the flowers which looks to be an ‘A’ in a red circle.

Hongjoong watches as you look at the corset with pure happiness in your eyes and a smile goes onto his own face

You look to him

“This is probably one of the nicest gifts anyone has given me..thank you. Hongjoong.”

“Of course, I'm just glad you like it.. Now. let's go get something to eat shall we?” and you both go out to join everyone else around the fire to eat.

…

The next day you all wake up bright and early ready to make your journey into the dense forest. Getting ready, you pack your little bag first and change into your clothes: trousers and a nice white flowy shirt.. The corset catches your eye in the corner so you decide to put it on. undoing the laces you slip it over your torso and go to pull the laces shut.. Only you realise something. You can't do it by yourself.

You make your way to the entrance of your tent and slightly poke your head out..

You see hongjoong giving out orders and overseeing them as most people are packing up their things and tents, majority of the crew are busy though someone catches you sticking your head out, with a cheeky grin on his face he saunters over towards your tent, you quickly pull your head back in and hold the opening shut

“y/n~~ are you ready?? We’re about to head off” he says..

“i - nearly, i'm just getting ready but i-” you weigh up all the options in your mind. Cursing at yourself you pop your head back out again and look at the blonde who's still smiling, his arms crossed over his chest.

You bite your lip slightly “wooyoung” you sigh out “can you come in here and help me?” you ask

He frowns slightly and tilts his head

“Help? Hmm sure, but with what?” he asks

You pop back in the tent

Wooyoung follows in after you, brushing a hand through his blonde hair and when he finally looks at you he sucks in a breath.

“Y-you need help lacing that up..” he asks a faint yet prominent blush creeps its way onto his cheeks

You nod slowly.. “if .. you wouldn't mind” you add.

He quickly shakes his head.

“I don't mind” he says and he walks over to you.

You turn around for him and he takes hold of the laces with shaky hands

“Let me know if it's too tight.. Okay..? i don't wanna hurt you” he says and begins to fix the strings before pulling on them. You feel yourself being sucked in oh god you don’t know how those women in towns do this, He pulls them tight a few times before he's asking you if it's okay you tell him it's fine before he’s pulling some more more and then he ties the bow in the back. His hands rest on your waist for a moment.

“There” he whispers out.

“Thank you”

He smiles though you can't see it.

Turning around you grab your bag to head out. It's wooyoung's turn to look over you, he bites his lower lip looking away slightly before looking back to you.

“You look good.. It suits you, pretty” he says and you both leave the tent. He helps you pack the rest of your things and roll your tent up and attach it to your bag.

Walking over to the rest of the group by the forest entrance, the fact you're wearing his corset doesn't go unnoticed by hongjoong. A blush of his own coating his cheeks as well. He clears his throat and continues his ‘speech’ and not long after you're all off into the forest..

…

hongjoong leads the line from the front, map and compass in his hands. You don't know how long you walked for.. All you know is this island is bigger than it seems to be and all you've been seeing is trees, trees and even more trees. And you’re losing daylight again.. Wherever it is that map leads.. We’re not getting there as quickly as hongjoong hoped we would.

You come to a small clearing in the woods.. Still covered with trees but space enough to make a small camp for your team of 15..

Hongjoong stops turning to face everyone.

“We’ll camp here for now” he sighs out shaking his head frustrated. He seems to have a silent conversation with seonghwa before he's speaking again “Mingi.. Jongho you both take night watch.” he says to the two men before he begins to walk off seonghwa close behind him.. Yeosang too before he adds

“We don’t know what or who lurks in this forest..”

…

The camp set up everyone seems to get settled seemingly staying in their own tents exception of jongho and mingi who pace around a makeshift border of what you call ‘camp’

Sitting watching the flames of the fire at the side of the camp.. It's quiet.. Peaceful.

“y/n..” yunho stands in front of you with a smile on his face. He outstretches his hand for you to take.

“Come with me.” he says and you look at him suspiciously.

He sighs out.. “Just come on.. Or we’ll miss it” he grabs your hand and begins to pull you away. Away from camp.. Down the path. You walk hand in hand with yunho for around 10 to 20 minutes. Until you come to another opening. This time a cliff opening. He lets go of your hand and goes and sits on the edge of the cliff sighing dejectedly

“Missed it.. It was right there my star.. I'm sorry” he says to you.

You sit next to him

“What was it?” You ask

“The lights..” he sighs

You smile

“Thank you for coming to get me because you saw them.. Don’t worry though Yun.. the stars are still very pretty to watch” you tell him. He nods still upset that he failed to get you on time.. You sit in silence for a few moments and then he turns to you.

“I'll be back quickly star.. I'll go get a blanket and my telescope and we can watch them better” he says to you and you agree and he gets up and walks back in the direction you both came from.

You sit yourself in the quiet and peaceful for a bit looking up at the stars.. Occasionally looking at the darkness of the ocean below from your viewpoint.

You hear the crunching of the ground in the distance

“Sorry I kept you y/n.. I’m back” he says and sits beside you again.

#starrywooyo #starrywooyo fics #starrywooyo treasure series #starrywooyo treasure #treasure #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez pirate au #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung oneshot #jongho x reader #ateez series

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mrghostrat · 5 months

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some of my favourite good omens fics for @lostscript!

this got so long oh my god. i have to stop, but this is only like 2 pages of my bookmarks, in no particular order. i'll have to make another post eventually, or at least start organising my bookmarks on ao3 to rec things more easily. for now, please enjoy this tasty mix of human aus + angel/demon pining.

First Class (Hons) Christmas, University of Tadfield by heloluv

M • 41k • human AU (professors) this fic is like stepping into a beautiful, cosy, classic, high quality christmas movie. crowley and aziraphale are professors at Tadfield University, and they meet for the first time when aziraphale starts organising the yearly christmas fundraiser. "A Christmas and New Years fic, in which Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year."

What We Make Of It (Shotgun Wedding) by charlottemadison

E • 213k • human AU (teacher/guardian) the flow of their growing relationship in this fic is so unique and incredibly written, it seizes my heart on every reread. aziraphale is a high school english teacher, adam is his narcoleptic student, and crowley is adam's uncle/legal guardian. due to crowley's work, he cannot date a teacher, for risk of losing his job and the health insurance that covers adam's condition. but he can, technically, marry one.

Something We Were Withholding Made Us Weak by triedunture

M • 14k • angel/demon (south downs) where pre-relationship aziraphale and crowley retire and move to the south downs cottage before ever talking about their feelings, and come together as they learn to live in tandem.

the bucket list by darcylindbergh

E • 44k • angel/demon (south downs) technically still a wip, but it's been left at a satisfying, conclusive point. after armageddon, pre-relationship crowley and aziraphale decide to work through a list of human activities they haven't done before. they go travelling and dining together, try out hobbies, and end up in a south downs cottage. communication angst as they try to work out what they want from life, and each other.

Of burnt books and courting Crowley by robynvite

E • 11k • angel/demon (post s1) "a year after Armageddon't, Aziraphale finds out two pieces of very startling news: One, Newt and Anathema burned the sequel to Agnes Nutter's Nice and Accurate Prophecies. Two, Crowley was in love with him, and had been since the Beginning." aziraphale attempts to court crowley when he finds out crowley loves him.

Slow Show by mia_ugly

E • 95k • human AU (actors) "two ineffable co-stars only take four seasons of an award-winning television program to realize they’re on their own side." crowley is a washed up PR nightmare and aziraphale is in the closet, married to a beard. crowley is in love with him, and aziraphale falls over the course of the show.

South Downs by summerofspock

E • 76k • human AU (actors) this time, aziraphale is out and proud, whilst crowley needs some help figuring it out. "Blackballed from the industry ten years ago, Anthony Crowley jumps at the chance to star in a new Regency romance miniseries with well-known gay actor Aziraphale Fell in the hopes that it will help him restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley has played all sorts of characters and for the life of him, he can't figure out why he's struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man."

Not a Mounted Dildo but a Fuck Machine by NaroMoreau, summerofspock

E • 35k • human AU (roommates) "When Aziraphale meets a nice girl on Tinder who he thinks is his perfect match, he's delighted. There's just one hurdle: that pesky virginity thing. Lucky for him, Crowley has always been there for him. He's helped Aziraphale with every other problem through the years, why not this one?"

Intermezzo by FeralTuxedo

E • 47k • human AU (musician/journalist) Music critic Aziraphale Fell is trying to break into the world of television, when he is signed to make a documentary about former-rockstar-turned-composer Anthony Crowley. It’s been eleven years since Aziraphale’s disastrous review of Crowley’s debut opera nipped his classical music career in the bud. He can only hope that Crowley will get over his admittedly justified grudge to make the TV show a success.

side note: i officially love everything feraltuxedo has ever written. their library is a slew of human AUs in all kinds of settings with varying wordcounts. they are a GIFT

Joint Honours by FeralTuxedo

E • 43k • human AU (university students) aziraphale (phd) and crowley (undergrad) live in the same student share house. they get involved before they realise crowley is a student in aziraphale's seminars. spicy drama of them trying to keep their relationship hidden + aziraphale getting his work plagarised

it's a new craze by attheborder

T • 5k • angel/demon (post armageddon) aziraphale and crowley start an advice podcast. dialogue only, with comments from listeners speculating about their relationship and potential immortality

Petrichor & Parchment by MrsNoggin

E • 33k • human AU (gardener crowley) aziraphale, a restorer of antique books, moves to a cottage in tadfield. the garden is a mess. he hires a local landscaper to sort it out. aziraphale takes his work outside and ogles.

The 21st Century, In Which They Finally Work It Out by chaya

E • 22k • angel/demon (post armageddon) crowley tries furthering their relationship after armageddon. he has to go extremely slowly so as not to spook aziraphale, but eventually they find themselves on romantic weekend getaway, in a lodge under the northern lights.

Waking Up Slow by the_moonmoth

E • 88k • human AU (lockdown roommates) aziraphale and crowley are strangers who have to quarantine together in aziraphale's cottage. exquisitely romantic mutual pining over the course of two weeks, with cosy fireplace cuddling, walking around in towel, and strip poker.

Have you told him by cyankelpie

G • 7k • angel/demon (through the ages) aziraphale can sense love, and can tell crowley is deep in it. he can only assume he's fallen for a human. again, and again, and again, and again.

The Bizarre Demons of AZ Fell & Co Antique Booksellers by WorseOmens

T • 8k • angel/demon (buzzfeed unsolved crossover) a fuckin hilarious crossover fic presented as an episode of buzzfeed unsolved, where the ghoul boys visit the bookshop and commune with crowley through a spirit box

#good omens fic recs #good omens #lostscript #rat reads

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tinybro · 1 year

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ok my brain has been hooked on that "jasico feat. lil daughter bianca" idea from this post and i need to wordvomit my own take on it

several years postcanon (and in an AU where he doesn't die), jason gets himself an apartment of his own in a city pretty far off from either camp. everyone's kinda perplexed because he's so isolated, but he just really needs some space to figure out his own identity separate from all the gods and camps shit that's dominated his entire life. he keeps in touch with everyone but he's just quietly doing his own thing.

and then he gets a small child dropped in his lap by his dad – the first time jupiter's had any direct interaction with him since the whole gaia incident, so he's as shitty a dad as ever and it's honestly shocking that he's involving himself this much with one of his kids. and it sure doesn't make jason feel any better about it that dad only bothered interacting with him for the sake of a different kid, but he can't blame the kid for that. she's barely a toddler and her name is coincidentally bianca. of course he thinks immediately of nico, but jason doesn't tell anyone about his suddenly becoming a young single dad at first. he wants to do things himself, and he's always been the type to help anyone and everyone while keeping his own struggles to himself. jason tries so hard tho, he does research and reads parenting books and stresses hard over whatever trauma this small child has already dealt with in losing her mom and being handed off to a stranger. he runs himself ragged trying to figure out how to be a good parent all on his own without any decent role models.

meanwhile, nico's always had an open invitation to visit jason's place or just crash on his couch if needed or whatever. he hasn't taken jason up on the offer often, so it's a surprise when he shadowtravels in one day and accidentally scares a small child, and suddenly jason has to explain bianca to someone. whoops. and nico has plenty of his own feelings about shit – her name dredges up a lot of emotions for him, and of course he's frustrated with jason for not talking to anyone about this – but jason's clearly exhausted, so nico sets all that aside and forces jason to go get some sleep and let him babysit for a bit.

jason gets some much-needed rest, and when he comes back out nico's already gotten way too attached to this kid. whether he's projecting a bit of his bianca feelings onto her or just sympathetic to a kid dealing with too much way too young, he's absolutely doting on her and it's incredibly cute and jason is extremely endeared.

nico had only intended to stop by briefly before getting back to his own business, but he ends up staying for a few days because he keeps finding excuses to help out more. it's so domestic and comfortable and neither jason or nico are acknowledging how much it makes them feel like a married couple because they're of course dancing around Feelings. and when nico does finally have to leave to get back to whatever task hades had him doing, bianca is very sad about it and, well, that just means he has to come by again as soon as he's done, right?

(it snowballs quickly from "nico visiting frequently to see bianca and help jason out" to "nico practically living with them and being dad #2", and it's even more awkward when the rest of the friends find out about the surprise child)

#imagine finding out your friend not only has a whole child but has been coparenting with another one of your friends #and you didn't *think* they were dating but now that you see this shit you're suddenly unsure #but it's too awkward to ask so everyone just puzzles over the relationship in private #sorry for hijacking your idea my brain just wouldn't shut up #jasico #pjo #my dumb headcanons

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perpetualexistence · 2 months

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Sea Monster AU: Poor Unfortunate Soul (2/2)

youtube

(Why this cover in particular? Mainly because the thumbnail is cool. Also, annapatsu's covers always slap without fail.)

So! It's been a while! Partially because this chapter ended up longer than anticipated. Partially because I got distracted with other AUs because the ADHD mind takes me where it wants to take me. I think it's just going to be safer to not have a set schedule for when these come out because that's apparently just not how my brain wants to work. But I could never forget about this AU! Bit by bit, it will get done, as you can see here!

But here we are! Welcome back to Noah making drastic life choices because Alejandro is a toxic manipulative bastard. Drastic enough to warrant more content warnings.

Content warnings: Murder, cannibalism, toxic relationship, body horror

Once more, the asterisks return for the most gruesome bits. I've got a safer summary of what happens in the asterisks at the bottom.

If you ever think I need more content warnings, please do let me know and I'll add them immediately.

Without further ado, time to dive into Noah's further exploration into magic!

<- Prev | First | Next (Soon) ->

With gills, Noah can now begin with proper magic. There's the spell that would make Alejandro smaller that he still needs to find in his book. There's also the problem of needing a back up plan. If he fails to shrink Alejandro, then Alejandro will kill him. He won't be able to talk his way out of it. He'll need the ability to fight back.

The book can sense his desire to defend himself. It flips to a page that promises a ritual that will grant his body the ability to do just that. It will even make magic easier to perform. Perfect. His only problem is the lack of details on the outcome. Try as he might, the book always flips back to how to cast the spell, and away from what happens after. Considering what happened the last time he tried to force something out of the book, he decides settling for this spell will be easier. The book throws him a bone with mention that this won't be as permanent as the gills, so that's something.

Noah's reading through the list of things he needs for the ritual. Rune knife, check. A bunch of salt, weird, but whatever. Flesh. At least a whole body's worth. The closer the attachment, the better the results. And to finish it off?

Consume the heart.

Noah's frantically looking at the alternative for flesh. He'd essentially need to alchemically recreate a human being. How many more ships would he have to sacrifice to make that happen? Countless, probably. People are already noticing the disappearances. There's no way he'd get all of this before he and Alejandro get caught. If Alejandro gets caught, people are going to go after him. Innocent people, sailing to their deaths because they have no idea about how Noah's been fighting to keep them off the menu.

So flesh it is. Time to kill a person. It's not like this is anything new. He already killed Chris. Even if that one was in complete self defense. And this one would very much be calculated. It'd be easier if he could just sneak away a corpse from one of Alejandro's feeding frenzies. But Alejandro's his ride there and back. There's no hiding a corpse from him.

So he's going to have to kill this one all on his own. In cold-blood. With his twig arms. At least he semi-knows how to defend himself.

Before he got Chef killed, Chef had insisted on teaching him self defense. Said his scrawny ass would have to worry about people just as much as monsters. Forced him to carry stuff with him. Noah did start noticing a difference, however small. Chef was gruff about it, but he did acknowledge it. All in all, Chef was pretty decent. He wasn't completely unreasonable. Not like Chris. Maybe-

No. Noah can't afford to go down that line of thinking. Chef loved Chris. He'd do anything for that man. Maybe Chef did know the true plan, and was still helping Chris. Even if he didn't, he never would have rested if he was allowed to live. Noah couldn't risk revenge killing. Chef had his uses, and now it'll make this job a bit easier.

He needs to kill someone on land. It has to be someone who deserves it. The closer, the better. Thanks to recent events, there's one person who comes to mind. The loan shark who has been hassling his family for years. He's back in town now, and Noah doubts anyone will miss him. He could use his hacking abilities to try to narrow down his exact location. Still, can't walk into a lion's den. He'll be really lucky to take the loan shark down. More than that? Absolutely not. Noah needs to isolate the loan shark, and have him come to Noah. That's going to require tact Noah doesn't have.

But he knows the perfect teacher.

Alejandro is incredibly pleased when Noah tells him that he wants to learn more about hunting. It seems that any concern about what he had been doing with Chef and Chris get quashed when Noah leans into murder. He has to lie about how it felt to kill Chris. Not as much as he thought he would. Chris had it coming. Noah just has to pretend the anger comes less from how he would have sacrificed the town and more from how he would have brainwashed Alejandro.

It's not like he's really lying about it per se. He would have felt bad to completely steal someone's autonomy away. Even if it had been Alejandro. Still, that doesn't dispel the worm of guilt as he swears he recognizes appreciation and fondness in Alejandro's eyes.

There's a part of him that wants to reciprocate. There is. It's the part of him that remembers that Alejandro is the first person he ever got close to and vulnerable with. That recognizes that their relationship has to be more than that of convenience. Why else would Alejandro insist on learning everything about Noah and hanging out even when not hunting? He gushes over romance novels and is jealous of Noah's dog, for fuck's sake. Neither of those things would obviously make him more endearing to Noah if that was Alejandro's goal. It's why they are so endearing.

Yet here Alejandro is. Gushing over his newfound appreciation for the craft of killing. How the yacht incident is forgiven. Forgiven? Like Noah was the one in the wrong for saying no to Alejandro one time? For having a nice night out with people that weren't Alejandro? My god, it wasn't even about the no, was it? It was that Noah could have a positive interaction with anyone except Alejandro. Enough to prioritize himself over pleasing Alejandro. The eel is possessive, and he got jealous, and innocent people had to die for that.

Noah is an object to Alejandro. A pet, if he's feeling generous. He's made that very clear. Alejandro will accept nothing less. So Noah can't give him that choice. He'll shrink Alejandro, and make him the pet instead.

It's the only way he anyone feel be safe.

So he plays up the monstrous version of himself that Alejandro wants. It's easier than it should be. Good. That makes it more believable. He uses the fact that his relationship with the loan shark is personal to excuse wanting to do the kill and take care of the body himself. He never outright says it, but he implies Alejandro as an inspiration for his change in tune.

He takes solace in the fact that all of this is still a lie. It has to be.

He gets in touch with the loan shark through nicking his mother's phone. Not one of his prouder moments, but that ship has sailed, sunk, and rotted away long ago. With the added guile he's learned from Alejandro, he's able to trick the loan shark into coming to a place near Chris's beach house. He's going to pay off the rest of the debt in person to make sure they don't have to do this ever again.

Noah is going to bring a suitcase full of cash that he's saved up from selling off his stolen goods. He needs a reason for the man to get close enough so Noah can stab him with his ritual knife.

Noah would love it if he could just put a bullet in the man's brain without having to get close to him. There are multiple problems with this. One, Noah would need a gun. Two, knowing how finnicky magic is, Noah would have to make a gun. Three, Noah would have to learn how to use the gun. Four, Noah might be searched for weapons. It's a lot of time and effort that Noah's not willing to spend.

The nice thing about magic ritual knives is that, once attuned, they can be summoned at will. So no worry about being caught with a weapon. So, time for the actual stabbing. It's not too hard to find the motivation. He remembers the time he called his oldest sister 'mom'. He was only about four or five at the time. He only knew his mother existed in theory. She just used home as a place to sleep in between jobs. The eldest siblings had been forced to pick up the slack of parenting by necessity. He didn't understand why his sister had sobbed and run to their mother. He could hear the words they shared. But he wouldn't process a child mourning the loss of their childhood until years later.

He knew their father was the one truly to blame for leaving them all to this situation. Noah would twist the knife into his father's back if he could. He'll settle for doing the same to the leech that took advantage of their situation and was still attempting to suck them dry.

***

He's more present for this murder than he was for Chris's. It feels like he's watching someone else in his body, but he's aware enough that he is controlling his own body and remembers this. He wants to remember this one.

Once the loan shark gets close enough, it's a knee to the groin. Noah's fighting to win. A summoned knife to slash him across the neck. Noah misses. The shark didn't fall as fast as he thought he would. The shark uses two hands to grabs him by the wrist and attempts to pull the knife away. Not good, Noah can already feel himself losing that battle.

With a flick of his wrist, the knife glows. It switches from his right hand to his left. He goes for a stab into the side. With luck, he can puncture a lung. He's not used to using his off hand. He doesn't hit a lung, but he does get him in the side. He pulls the knife out quick. Blood pours out from the wound Noah just made. The shark is bleeding now. Not enough for Noah's liking. Noah notices his knife glow, and sees that the blood is being sucked into the runes. That's concerning. But Noah doesn't have time to process that.

Not when the shark takes advantage of his self-made distraction to tackle Noah. Noah goes down quick. He drops the knife in the tackle. The shark is strangling him while he still has the strength to do so. Made even worse by the fact that the shark's fingers are digging into Noah's gills, too. He's gagging, and choking, and he needs to end this now.

He tries to wrestle the shark's hands away from his throat. It does nothing. His strength was never going to be a match for the shark's. He can feel the shark's nails dig into his gills. Now he's choking both on air and his own blood. Spots are dancing in his vision. They're broken by a soft glow. The knife. The knife!

Noah stops trying to stop the choking. Instead, he summons his knife to his hand once more. This wasn't how Noah wanted the bastard to get close, but it'll do. He's right on top of him. The shark is so focused on Noah's throat that he left Noah's arms free. He uses both his hands to make the knife pierces the shark right through his neck. The shark slumps over Noah. Shock? Death? Noah's not sure. He isn't taking chances.

He wriggles out from underneath and stabs him in the throat again. He swore he saw a twitch. Again. The breath of life attempting to work its way through the hole in his throat. Again. Glassy eyes reflect a face Noah can't recognize as his own. Again. Noah's throat feels raw. Was it the choking or is it his screaming? Again. Laughing, or crying? Again. It doesn't matter. Again. It must be done. Again.

His arms tire. The deed is done.

Clean up feels like it takes forever. Still, for all this work he's put into this, he can't afford to be sloppy now. He drags the corpse back. It was a risk hunting his prey so close to his beach house. But the farther he has to take it, the more he'd risk being spotted. So close it is.

Some tension leaves his shoulders once he's inside. But it's not over yet. He drags the corpse all the way to his cove. He dumps the sack of flesh into the water. He dives in after it.

The cool water soothes his aching gills. Right, he'd forgotten about that. He takes a moment to run his hands gently across his gills. At least his scarf will hide the bruises. He cleans the blood off. He hopes that'll be enough because that's the extent to his knowledge on how magic gills work.

Now for the ritual proper. The water is salted, the circle set, incantations spoken. Now, for the body. It's in the center of the circle, but that's not enough. He has to commit one more vile act to see this through.

No time for holding back. He's doing this so no one else has to. At least the earlier cut makes it easier to cut through and reach the heart. He cuts it out and holds it in his trembling hand. There's no going back after this. Then again, there never was.

He closes his eyes and bites into the heart. It feels softer than he expected. Leftover blood bursts onto his tongue. The iron taste makes him gag. He rips away the bite. He chews. He goes for another. His teeth are sore. This one feels easier. His teeth are sharper. The iron loses its sour tang and becomes sweeter. He'd be lying if he said he was never curious about why Alejandro always insisted on eating Noah's kind. He thinks he gets it now.

Oh god. He thinks he gets it now.

He consumes it as quickly as he can manage, before the rest of his thoughts catch up with him. Everything glows, and his body is racked with pain. He passes out in shock.

***

When he comes to, the circle is empty. His body feels heavier. He kicks his feet to try to get back to the surface to gather himself...but he can't. He looks down to see eight tentacles, amber with rings of blue and black, where his legs should be.

On instinct he tries to swim away, but he's not used to wielding eight lower limbs rather than two. Most of them smack at each other in an attempt to replicate legs to swim. Noah's fucked up. He's fucked up so bad. 'Won't be permanent' was a lie that he fell for and now he's given up the humanity he was struggling so hard to keep and why can't he just have his own fucking legs back-

And suddenly he's looking at his legs again. He blinks as he processes the new yet familiar sight. Okay? Okay. This is, maybe that was some kind of stress and magic induced hallucination? They had looked so real though-

And the tentacles are back. Of course he wouldn't be so lucky. At least the 'won't be permanent' thing wasn't a complete lie. He just has to learn how to control the changes. And control the tentacles. Just like the gills. And just settle into his new life as a half-octopus. Cecaelia? Merfolk.

Like Alejandro.

Oh. A body to defend himself.

Well.

He can work with this.

[Noah fights against the loan shark. He wins, and drags what remains back to the beach house he 'inherited' from Chris. He performs the ritual successfully and passes out due to shock.]

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antithcsis · 6 months

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library au pt 3???? 861 words (pt. 1) (pt. 2)

Two weeks.

Two weeks is all it took before Regulus saw James again. He was working his usual shift, reorganizing the historical fiction section of the library after students all but ransacked the shelves trying to look for whatever book it was they needed, when one of the freshmen also working that day came up to him saying Ms. Pince wanted to see him up at the front.

He sighed and put down the book he was holding, counting down the minutes before he was able to go outside to the statue garden again. Regulus liked to sit there and sketch the statues from different angles. Each day they looked a bit different, from snow having melted off or freshly fallen throughout the previous night, so he sat there and tried to capture their likeness as best he could.

Of course he hadn’t forgotten what happened in the garden not ten days prior, that short interaction with James all but burned into Regulus’ brain. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the vitriol he heard in James’ voice that night, especially because it was aimed at him. He wasn't saying it wasn’t deserved–lord knows he deserved much worse than that–but it was almost like there were two different versions of James in his brain now; one before Regulus’ 21st birthday, and one after.

He couldn’t really blame James, though. He was sure that if he were to waltz right back into his brother’s life right then, Sirius wouldn’t have even recognized him. Which was probably for the best., honestly.

Regulus was still lost in thought when he approached the front desk, which was the only reason why he hadn’t immediately seen who was standing right next to it. “You called for me, Ms. Pince?”

The woman turned around, her severe stare landing on Regulus over her glasses. “Ah yes, Mr. Black. Since you are my longest standing student helper here, I was hoping that you could help show Mr. Potter how we do things here. He will only be working with us for a short period of time, but I expect him to know his way around nonetheless."

Complete dread washed down Regulus' spine in that moment, his head slowly turning around to look at the person standing to his right. Sure enough, James Potter himself was standing there in the flesh, with a look on his face that clearly showed his disdain for the situation. He tried to put on his usual charming smile for the librarian, but Regulus could see through his bullshit a mile away.

“I take it you boys already know each other?” she asked them with a raised brow whe neither of them spoke up, looking between the twp boys as if ready for a fight to erupt at any given second.

James looked away and cleared his throat, breaking the weird staring contest he and Regulus found themselves in. “Ah, uhm, yes, we do. I’m... friends with his brother.”

“Good! Then I can leave you to your own devices. Mr. Potter, if you would please sign these papers before you start. They are just to confirm the amount of hours you will be working with us over the next six weeks.”

James nodded and bent down over the paper, reading the text and chewing at the end of the pen in his hand. Regulus scrunched his nose at the action, a bit disgusted that he would put a publicly-used object in his mouth, but ultimately turned back towards the librarian. “Ms. Pince, are you sure there’s no one else that can show him around? I was already busy with the historical fiction section and there’s still so much left to do.”

Regulus wasn’t one to complain about things, usually taking them on the chin and simply pushing through so he could get them done as soon as possible, but he would've rather been caught dead before spending six weeks teaching James Potter of all people how to stack books. He was ready to forget their interaction two weeks ago and move on like nothing happened, but clearly the universe wasn’t done fucking with him.

How utterly perfect.

Most likely having heard Regulus, James tried and failed to hide his laugh, but Regulus could see his smug smile tucked away behind his palm. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to Ms. Pince, praying and hoping she would (unknowingly) help him out just this once.

“I’m sorry Mr. Black, but you are the person best suited for the job. If you have any quarrels with each other, I suggest you get them sorted out now as I expect them to not interfere with your work,” she said with an air of finality before promptly turning around and walking back into her office.

Regulus barely held back a scoff at her expectations. Yeah, not bloody likely.

“Well Black, might as well get this over with, yeah?” James said with a smug look on his face, one Regulus was moments away from wiping off with a swift punch to his cheekbone.

Instead he curled his fingers into a fist, wishing he could be literally anybody else in that moment.

#and we're back!!#i truly have no ide where i'm going with this #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #sunseeker #starchaser #james x regulus #marauders #marauders era #library au #m writes

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shattered-yet-whole · 3 months

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WIP - I was gonna write an AU psych ward fanfic but then i just started writing my psych ward trauma. Antipsych. This happened a while ago, I'm okay now (and I'm not grateful it happened).

tw - suicidal ideation, descriptions of suicide rehearsal, psychiatric abuse, trauma

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“Why are you here?”

I look at the psychiatrist’s tie blankly. He’s dressed in a suit, a clipboard and pen in hand. I haven’t even gotten my clothes back, I have to wear a hospital gown and pants four sizes too large, and am not allowed footwear other than grippy socks. The only thing I have left that's mine is my chipped glittery nail polish. I've picked it halfway off over the past day despite desperately trying not to. But this guy is walking around in shiny Oxfords and a suit.

I don’t look at his face. I know he’s looking at me, expecting an answer. Something I’m learning here is that they wait for you to speak. Even if you take a long time. They don’t try to speak for you. Sometimes I wish they would. It would be easier to say what they wanted to hear if they did. Instead I have to guess. I suppose I’m used to doing that, but it’s a lot scarier. “Don’t you know?” I say.

“Yes. But I want to hear it from you.”

Great. I have to tell him in my own words. It’s like a school assignment, but the grade is how long I’m going to be locked up.

I had been in the ER for 13 hours before I came in, and then I stayed up 2 more hours getting here. I wasn’t allowed my phone until I’d been there for 6 hours. No calling my friends. No telling anyone where I was. No one to talk to. Just me and the book I brought, the book I couldn’t focus on because I’d just gone to the counselor’s office because I was having a hard time and now I was at the ER for a psych eval. The counselor who sent me to the ER had said he thought I would just get connected to resources in the community. He said he didn’t think I would be sent to a psych ward.

I’d done a lot of staring at the ceiling to just get through to the eval part, 4 hours in. 2 hours after, when I finally learned I was recommended inpatient, the social worker told me even if I hate it now, I will be grateful later. Once I feel better, I will approve of the decision to involuntarily commit me. My current wishes tossed aside for a theoretical future me who is glad I never a choice. If they’re right, I should kill myself now so I never become such a monster. All alone, with a life shattering brick dropped on my head, I finally cried.

After the eval, I’d begged the nurse for my phone so I could tell my friends where I was. So I could tell my roommate why I still hadn’t come back at 9pm when we usually saw each other by five. My phone was nearly dead when I got it. I called my friends. I called my parents. My friends stayed with me the rest of the 7 hours I was there. They hugged me and cried with me until I got taken away in an ambulance at 3am. I wondered how much a 45 minute ambulance ride cost. I wondered if it mattered.

What a fuck-up I must have seemed. I’d heard of some college kids going to psych wards before. I knew someone who had called a suicide hotline at 4am and got the cops called to take them in. I hadn’t thought it would happen to me.

It’s nice, in a way. To know how bad I’m doing. I’m bad enough that I need to be locked up. For my own safety. I’m so crazy that I can’t be trusted to make my own decisions. I hadn’t known I was that bad until now. I still don’t believe it. It’s a mistake. But it’s nice they think I’m struggling.

He’s looking at me again. I don’t remember what he asked. “Can you repeat the question?” I ask.

“Sure. Why are you here?” he says again.

Right, that was what it was. I smile. I smile when I’m nervous. “Well, I… I…” Why is he making me say this. He knows what I did. I didn’t even try to kill myself. It’s not that bad. “Well, I was… I was… Sometimes I get into these moods. A lot of times I’m normal and fine. But sometimes I just… sometimes I just want to die. I used to try not to think about how I could do that or anything.” I sigh. I had tried so hard to not think about methods. I must have known I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from doing shit like this eventually. “Because I know this sort of thing would happen. But this time… this time I did. I looked up bridges I could theoretically jump from. But that seems like it would suck.”

I laugh. It’s a nervous laugh. It’s a ��isn’t it funny that jumping from a bridge to kill yourself would suck?’ joke. One of the classics. He’s not laughing.

“Anyway, I was just feeling… I don’t know. I felt useless. I just keep thinking about dying and killing myself. It’s stupid. And I—I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I don’t know if people think I was trying to kill myself and that’s why I’m here. But I wanted to do something. To—I don’t know. To see what’s even possible. So I—so I—so I—”

This is the part I always get stuck on describing. I don’t know how to put what I was feeling into words. I don’t know how to describe what I was doing. I don’t know why I was doing it. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But then again, it had seemed like a good idea to go to the counselor’s office at the time.

“I took—I took a belt. Right? And I hooked the metal buckle part over the door knob—it’s one of those long ones. And I kind of—I kind of—I don’t know. I kind of wrapped it around my neck once and held it with my other hand. So that if I passed out I would be fine. And then I sort of… pulled down. To see if that would… do anything. I did that a few times, and then I was scared that I did it. And I told the counselor the next day.”

It hadn’t been empty blackness like I’d hoped for. It had been a pulsing pressure in my head. I did it a couple times, to see if I could get the empty blackness. Then I stopped. Because it had seemed like such a good fucking idea before I did it, but then I realized I’d done something very worrying and should probably be in therapy. Even if the voice that had started the whole thing was telling me to do it again. It wasn’t real before I’d done it, but once I’d done it, it was too real to ignore.

He’s writing on the clipboard. I have a sinking feeling I’m not getting a good grade. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” I repeat.

“I know,” he says. He’s still writing. I wish I knew what it was.

It’s just me and him in my room. He woke me up when he came in. I went to sleep after breakfast. When I was admitted at 5am last night, one of the techs told me I should try to be awake during the day and asleep at night. Go to groups. Talk to people. It would help me get out sooner. But I’d already been up for 20 hours and it was 5am. So I was going to sleep and they were just going to have to live with that. Apparently you can’t skip the psychiatrist appointments, though.

“What’s got you so suicidal?” he asks.

The world. Everything. And yet, nothing. My life is great. “What do you mean?” I say.

“What do you think about that makes you want to kill yourself?” he elaborates.

“I… I don’t know,” I say. “The… the environment, I guess. Global warming. Kinda sucks to feel like the future is ruined. And the species and the ice sheets. Rising fascism.” I remember a tumblr post where a therapist talked about her patients talking more about those sorts of things making them depressed. That made it seem like an okay enough reason to give to a psychiatrist. And it’s not like that isn’t a big fucking bummer making me not want to be alive.

He makes more notes. “Anything else?” We both seem know that’s not enough on its own to make me constantly thinking about suicide.

I shrug. I’m just so stupid and worthless doesn’t feel like a cogent enough explanation. And I can’t phrase it like that. That would be stupid. “Feelings of… worthlessness, and um.” I search for something in my head. It’s fuzzy. There’s nothing there. I always remember everything so well when I’m crying in bed thinking about how much I want to kill myself. I could write essays on the subject in those moments. Instead I just rehash them to myself, over and over. But I can’t remember any of it now. “I dunno. I can’t remember unless I’m spiraling. A lot of anxiety. Around… people. Social anxiety.” I nod.

Sometimes I get attacked by my social anxiety, memories from years ago—three years, five years, a decade—sending jolts through me as I remember them. I remember what I should never do again. What I’ve learned. Lessons I can never forget, even when I can’t remember what taught them. I usually throw myself onto my bed and writhe in the agony of memories, clinging to ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I want to die’ like I'm falling in an abyss and they're the only rope up. I can never remember what the memories are until they’ve started their assault. I don’t know how to describe that, though.

I’m not being as amicable to him as I usually would be. I haven’t been amicable since they recommended me for inpatient at the ER. Something broke in me then. I’d felt it snap, a crack of terror, and then—nothing. I’m more stone-faced now. Quiet.

I can be friendly when I need to be. I can be talkative and responsive and say all the right words and have the appropriate “mmhmm”s and “oh no”s and “yeah”s. I can laugh in the right places, when it’s polite to laugh at a joke I don’t think is funny. I can make eye contact and break eye contact at what I assume are appropriate moments. I never know if I’m doing it right, though. I poured over a book about body language in high school, trying to learn how the fuck to do it. It said that the exact percentage varied, but around 40% eye contact 60% not eye contact. I tried to get the proportions right for years. Every conversation. Look at their eyes a few seconds, look away a few more seconds. Look eyes, look away. I used to look between their eyebrows, because the eyes were too much. But I read somewhere that some people can tell and they think it’s weird. So eyes it was.

I’m dead now, though. I’m already in a psych ward. They know I’m crazy. What’s the point in trying to appear like I can converse like a human. I don’t want to have to do it. So I don’t. I stare soullessly past people when they talk to me. I examine their clothes. I look at their hair. I don’t smile when they talk to me. I don’t laugh at their jokes. They ask me how I am and I don’t ask them back.

He seems to conclude I’ve finished explaining. “Well—okay, are you voluntary?” He leafs through his papers. “Yes, voluntary. Let’s see…” He leafs through them again.

Voluntary patient. What a laugh. When I came in, I was involuntary. During intake, they gave me some forms and said if I sign them I’d be a voluntary patient. I asked if anything would change. No, they said, it was a distinction with no difference. A voluntary patient still can’t leave until the psychiatrist says they can. But I would be seen as complying with the recommended treatment. It would be beneficial to be seen as complying with the recommended treatment. So I signed. But I never mistook that little black-and-white print Voluntary for consent, even if everyone else did.

#antipsychiatry #anti psych #creative nonfiction #personal narrative #psychiatric hospital #psychiatric abuse #suicidal ideation #suicide tw #trauma #complex ptsd #work in progress #dissociation #depression #anxiety #climate change mention #psych survivor #psych wards #institutionalization

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the-anime-man · 8 months

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What if Sig got to the Tome of Sealing first? AKA Tomo AU

hi again tumblr, please dont expect a whole lot from this blog, once again, but, i wanted to post like a little basic thing about this au i've had since 2021 now that i'm back into puyo again,

this is an au that Heavily relies on bits of fanon and headcanon to make it work cuz canon is puyo puyo is very fucking wishy washy but essentially, what if sig had checked out the tome of sealing from the library before klug was able to? (sorry if this is a bit scatterbrained, im not good at organizing my thoughts much,,)

(also please dont mind some of the art, im like an ok artist at best and some of this shit is from 2 years ago as well)

so like, as the absolute fucking nerd i am, i made like an initial google doc on this thing outlining most of the shit im about to summarize here (that i might link if someone asks at some point i guess idk) as well as a fanfic, didnt finish that though, i got like through barely a chapter before i stopped and then i got into sam and max but that's unrelated to now

ANYWAYS, the au is as it sounds, sig goes to precise museum and, guided by the voice of the crimson soul, finds the tome of sealing and checks it out (much to akuma's chargin,,) and then he checks out the book again,,, and again,,,, and a gain,,,, (you see where this is going)

but uh, why is it called tomo au? see im being a little shitter here and i thought maybe the crimson soul's memory would be a little shot after spending ages in a book so they might not remember their name and sig is like "you're my friend now so i'm gonna call you friend/tomodachi" but then he's like "that's too long i'm gonna call you tomo instead" so they just go along with it, for future reference, anytime i mention the crimson soul i'm gonna be calling it Tomo

wow that's really fucking big sorry,

sig has an immense attachment to tomo from the get go btw, he's like, i wanna say like 8 or so when he first gets to the book, so besides the obvious literal halvsies soul connection there's that childhood connection as well,

side note: they can speak to each other cuz of that soul connection btw, it's my personal headcanon that after slug (canon strange klug/the crimson soul) can speak to anybody who they've possessed before as well as their other half, so in canon klug and sig can hear the book talk but in this au only sig can hear them

also, the reason why tomo doesn't attempt to take over sig right from the outset is A) they dunno where the unsealing objects are and B) sig is a child and uh, another part that i'm still trying to work the kinks through of is whether tomo decides to hold off on doing the fusion dance of their own volition or if because the cyan soul (which can speak to tomo, but only when sig is asleep cuz when sig is awake the cyan soul IS sig, nother headcanon sorry) decides it's too soon, they probably have memories of previous incarnations stored in there and know that eventually sig will start showing more demonic traits but not when he's baby

wow this is getting to be a lot but we're not even done cuz now i gotta talk about what this means about shit like fever 2 and such (y'know canon things and all)

boy tumblr just hates making images smaller nowadays huh,

so when sig starts showing signs of his heritage (i.e., a bit before fever 2 happens) tomo and sig start to hatch a plan to get tomo a body back! of course, tomo is omitting some things about how they're actually going to go into sig's body cuz at this point they've been together for a few years now and sig trusts tomo as like, a best friend i guess? something like that,

so sig is under the impression tomo is gonna be released and get their old body back and tomo is under the impression that as soon as the seal releases they'll enter sig's body, join back up with the cyan soul, and return to their original form,

so sig transfers over to amitie and klug's class, (tomo) overhears that lemres is coming into town with the items they need, and they steal the shit and head to the ruins to perform the unsealing

SPOILERS! shit goes wrong

ignore how shitty the ms paint art from a couple of years ago is, might change the hair to be more red in future art

for reasons (that i also need to workshop because to be honest originally it was a "whoever unseals it gets their soul swapped with whoever is trapped in the book" but like??? idk if that's how it should work when it comes to these two specifically), sig and tomo swap places instead of a fusion happening,

sucks balls for both of them cuz this is like the Last thing either of them wanted out of this tbh, sig obviously because well, trust got broken and ended up trapped til the artifacts are stolen (klug either swaps roles with amitie or sig, haven't figured that one out yet either) and tomo most certainly doesn't want sig trapped, as they wouldn't want anyone to experience the loneliness of being sealed away like they were (except klug, fuck klug specifically) (also the chronicles drama cd mentions that part of tomo's character in it so it works for my purposes)

this image wasn't necessarily specific to tomo au but i thought it would fit anyways, sorry it's a bit blurry my phone wouldnt focus on the damn thing properly

and after fever 2,,, i kind of dont have as clear of a story? or a plan? there's some tension between sig and tomo for at least a little while but sig eventually forgives them, as well i don't know how i would tackle something like sig's secret if at all?? but yeah that's the main shit to this au, sorry it's all so very long! this has been on my mind for a few weeks now and it was on my mind for months back in 2021, so i just have a lot i'm throwing out here into the wind, if you got this far: thanks so much for reading!

here's some bonus shit for getting to the end of the main shit:

tomo calls sig "little blue" sometimes, since he's yknow, younger than them and blue but calls the cyan soul their "other half"

if you couldn't tell from the first image, since sig has his bookbag, he carries tomo around in that, but if he's stopped somewhere he'll leave the book open next to him so tomo can see around (hard to see with the covers in the way)

sig was already probably ostricized for yknow, his autistic tendencies, the book did not help with that, but it gave him a trusted confidant :)

sig actually starts developing his demonic traits earlier than in canon due to his proximity to tomo, but not by much

klug has stolen the book before, both demon halves were not pleased with this and klug has not attempted to steal the book again

sig can supplement his own magic power with tomo's for an incredibly large boost, and tomo doesn't mind doing so, this gives sig almost the exact same amount of power as the full demon used to have and also changes his right eye to red

OH, both relevant to this au and my own interpretation: the full demon's name was wisteria, but neither sig nor tomo remember it until either are reminded of that

ok that's it go home now bye bye

#sig puyo puyo #strange klug #puyo puyo #puyo puyo au #long post #under the cut i mean #tomo au #Get me an art tag the thrilling saga #WAIT YOU CAN EDIT TAGS ON TUMBLR NOW WHEN WAS THIS A THING #tldr i have a lot of thoughts about this dumbass au i've made enjoy my scattered ramblings 👍

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